Living To Die
by Diamondtearsx
Summary: Having mastered the Deathly Hallows, Harry Potter is reborn time and time again so that he is now so morally twisted he no longer cares what happens to the world or the people in it. So what happens when a time turner breaks in the middle of a deadly storm? Dark!Apathetic!Harry Dark!Mentor!Tom Contains violence, murder, language, rated M for safety.
1. Chapter 1

_**Living To Die**_

_**Summary: **Having mastered the Deathly Hallows, Harry Potter is reborn time and time again so that he is now so morally twisted he no longer cares what happens to the world or the people in it. So what happens when a time turner breaks in the middle of a deadly storm? Dark!Apathetic!Harry Mentor!Dark!Tom _

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter does not belong to me and anything you recognise belongs to the wonderful J.K Rowling

**A/N: **I know there's been plenty of fan-fictions on these subjects but I love reading them so I thought I'd try my hand at writing one. It will most likely turn out crap but I'm hoping there will be people out there kind enough to bless me with their reads and reviews ;) xx

Also, this chapter will involve several time skips and will breeze through quite fast but that's only because I didn't want to write whole chapters on these things that don't really need to be included for the plot. It's mainly setting up Harry's character and it will (hopefully) get better xox

**Notes: **_Warning, this fan-fic will likely contain gore, torture, sexual themes, gay themes and swearing. If you are not a fan of any of these I suggest finding another story... More might be added as the story progresses. Enjoy!_

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_**Chapter 1: **_

Somewhere in England, a small boy of just four sat in a dense forest as rain drops poured heavily on him, gazing up at the sky blankly. The scrawny boy seemed oblivious to the rain that pelted him, soaking his hair and clothes and trickling down his smooth face, his light eyes dead and empty yet so bright. Shutting them briefly he took a deep breath - When they reopened they were filled with resigned determination.

Turning his gaze to his small hands where an object glistened threateningly in his pale palms he lifted it up. Then, in one swift movement of one who'd done it many times before, drew the blade across his neck. He was dead before his head hit the ground. The crimson blood soaking into the rain and staining the leaves underneath.

The next time those dazzling bright eyes opened, they were staring into brilliant emerald orbs smiling gently at him from an exhausted face. And he did what any normal newborn baby would. He screamed.

* * *

Harry was bored.

Scowling at the oblivious teacher he turned back to the teapot in front of him. Having turned it from a feather to a teapot on his 'first' try he had nothing more to do but then, he never did. He knew every single spell Hogwarts had to offer and hundreds more. Being on his 27th turn at life he had mastered most everything in the wizarding world including the, oh so evil dark magic. He'd given into the temptation on his 4th life, deciding to research all branches of magic and it had kept him occupied for the time being. He now understood why dark wizards enjoyed casting their magic so much, the first time he'd started casting dark magic he felt a rush, it had been intoxicating and left him wanting to feel it again. So he had. Again and again and the addiction grew more and more until he was craving for the familiar feeling of the dark magic pulsing out and around him.

But after being reborn 26 times there was little more he could do... especially as a 15-year-old. Sneering Harry glared at nothing in particular, quite frankly, he was fed up. Fed up of having to go through the first ten years of his life with the Dursley's who, he had come to the realisation, he hated. Not a simple dislike, but a pure and deep loathing, so deep he'd even tortured and killed them in several lives. Revelling in their agony filled screams and pleading gazes. He was even fed up of attending Hogwarts, after all, it was around his 21st time of going through the school (the other times he'd simply killed himself before he got the chance to attend) and the people and curriculum bored him to no end. Surrounded by naïve children and manipulative adults who always tried to mould him into what _they_ wanted him to be.

Just because he was the lights 'saviour' where he was anything but. He hated how they put all their faith in a _child. _Never mind there would be people better suited for the job. And Dumbledore.. Well Harry realised he wasn't all he seemed on only his second life. Since he was less naïve and more powerful than his past 11 year old self, he recognised the subtle temps at compulsion charms and carefully placed words the old man would use. There was no doubt about it that Albus was a master of his game. Somehow, Harry always seemed to find satisfaction when he 'betrayed' the light or Dumbledore realised he was a hopeless case. Just seeing the old fool loose his composure and the hope drain from his eyes was oddly compelling.

_Harry Potter.. _He even hated the name, his _fake _name. It had been almost heartbreaking to find out James Potter wasn't even his real father. Instead, his father had been _Regulus bloody Black. _Hell, he'd found this out later in his first life telling no one but Ginny, Ron and Hermoine. Of course, he'd never found out exactly how it had come to be but at the time he'd hoped his mother had simply been raped as horrible as it sounded. He simply hadn't wanted her to have cheated on the person he'd called his father for so long. Along with this, he'd also found out an extremely powerful glamour had been placed on him using blood magic to make him look like the son of James Potter, so that proved Lily must've known who his father was. Throughout all his lives however, he hadn't once took off his glamour, almost afraid it would be admitting his true heritage.

Even everything about his mother had been a lie, making it seem as though his entire first life had been just that, a lie. Petunia had informed him one day that his mother had been adopted as a baby and Harry had done some research. Finding out that his mother had been taken from an orphanage at the tender age of 2. His 'aunt' had then given him a box his mother had given her before she died to give to Harry when she felt he was ready. Harry, of course, had felt explicable rage at this and had very nearly killed her then and there. Reading the diary his mother had kept, she told him about his true heritage and his father. She had even talked about her own family, and how she had made a potion to find out her heritage. She had learned she was from an old pureblood family who had died just after her birth as they had been dark wizards who had allied themselves with Voldemort and had been brutally murdered by the light.

Harry no longer felt any love for muggles, in some of his past lives, the wizarding world's stupidity had got them discovered and then they had made the mistake of trying to live peacefully with them. Once upon a time Harry would have agreed with them, but not any more. The muggles were huge in size and despite them having magic on their side, they were completely outnumbered. Sometimes, war had broke out and each time the magical world lost, forcing those few remaining witches and wizards to scatter and go into permanent hiding. Muggles were afraid of magic, afraid of someone being more powerful than them so, if they couldn't take it for themselves, they destroyed it. Which is exactly what they did.

Just then, the lesson ended and, leaving the classroom, Harry found a secluded corridor and grabbed the time turner he'd been administered by the ministry, turning it back a full hour. Time to go to Arithmancy. This being the only subject he hadn't yet perfected on the simple fact he just wasn't cut out for it. However he was determined to learn it off by heart and was already above average for the normal 15 year old.

Sighing, Harry resigned himself to yet another year at Hogwarts.

Harry still remembered his first year of this life at Hogwarts. Quite frankly, he'd just wanted to be left alone. Not wanting to put up with all the psychopaths out to kill him one way or the other. It had been quite funny if he was honest, it always was when he arrived at Hogwarts and did the exact opposite to what was expected...

It was almost September 1st and a seemingly young boy with a lightening shaped scar on his forehead was wandering around Diagon alley with Hagrid once again. Harry had to resist the urge to scowl at the half-giant as he left him alone to go get a drink from the Leaky Cauldron whilst Harry went to get fitted for school robes. Not that he was complaining, he'd rather be on his own than have to listen to Hagrid blundering on about the wizarding world and his parents.

Sighing resignedly to himself he entered 'Madam Malkin's' where he recognised a certain blonde haired boy with a pointed face. As soon as the pale boy noticed Harry standing there he spoke up, "Hello, Hogwarts too?" He asked and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes." He answered, "Where else?" He muttered under his breath.

"I can't wait to get there, my parents are buying my supplies next door," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'll drag them to the quidditch store! Wish I could take my broom to Hogwarts- I don't see why first years can't have their own. Maybe I'll smuggle it in."

Harry just hummed his agreement, waiting as his robes were fitted.

"Have you got your own broom?" He continued to which Harry shook his head.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

Harry smirked, "Yes."

"Really? I do too- Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. What position do you play?"

"Seeker." He replied.

"I suppose I could play seeker if a really wanted to but I much prefer the position of chaser. Say, know what house you'll be in yet?"

"Probably Slytherin, though I won't really know until I get there."

The blonde boy seemed pleased by this, "I know I'll be a Slytherin, our whole family has been. Imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

Harry simply raised an eyebrow, Draco was just as childish as he remembered.

"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in and Harry sighed.

"That's Hagrid, he works as the gamekeeper at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. I heard he's a sort of savage - lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

Harry snorted in amusement, Draco had no clue how right he was. The other boy seemed pleased by Harry's reaction and grinned at him before turning back to Hagrid and sneering. "Is he here with you? Gosh it must be awful having to walk around with that blathering idiot!"

"You have no idea." Harry mumbled and the Malfoy heir sent him a pitying look. "Say why aren't you here with your parents?"

"They're dead." Harry drawled, bored and causing Draco to raise his eye brows at his uncaring tone.

"Sorry, say- what's your name?"

At this Harry smirked, "Potter, Harry Potter." Then he left, leaving a gob-smacked Draco Malfoy behind.

Next he and Hagrid visited Ollivanders and, as he expected, he was given the brother wand to Voldemort like in all his other lives.

Soon Hagrid was handing him his ticket and telling him to be on platform nine and three-quarters but not telling him _how _to get to the certain platform. Sometimes he wondered if Hagrid 'forgot' to tell him on purpose so he'd be late and meet the Weasleys who were a prominent light supporter.

September 1st dawned and found Harry sitting in his own compartment aboard the Hogwarts Express. Minutes before the train pulled away his compartment door was opened and a bright mop of red hair peeked round.

"Mind if I sit here?" Ron asked nervously and Harry sighed.

"Go ahead."

"Thanks."

The red haired boy sat across from Harry, staring at his forehead with wide eyes. "Your Harry Potter! Like, THE Harry Potter?"

Harry frowned, "Yes." He said shortly, slightly irritated.

Seeing his irritated look Ron hurriedly apologised, "Sorry, sorry it's just, I've heard so much about you you know? Everybody who grew up in the wizarding world has."

Harry only raised an eyebrow.

Slightly put out, Ron tried again to get him talking, "Well I'm Ron Weasley... I heard you grew up with muggles -What are they like?"

At the mention of muggles especially his 'relatives', Harry sneered, "They're pathetic." He spat, "Treat me like dirt for being 'different'. A freak as they call it."

Ron's eyes widened, "You don't like muggles?" He asked but before Harry could reply the compartment door opened to reveal three boys. Draco, who stood in the middle and flanked by his two goons spoke,

"We heard Harry Potter was in this compartment," He said, staring at Harry. "I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Saying this, he held out a pale hand for Harry to shake. Smirking, Harry took it, almost feeling Ron's disbelief and betrayal. Not that he hated Ron or anything of the sort, he could still remember the friendship they had formed before. But that was just it, this Ron wasn't the red haired man he'd grown to know and care for. This Ron was immature and prejudice and Harry knew that if he found out who Harry really was he'd want nothing to do with him. The way he saw it, he was just saving the boy from further pain. Said boy was currently staring at him with wide eyes.

"Harry!" He exclaimed, "You can't be making friends with him, he's a Slytherin." He stated as if that explained everything and Harry supposed that in Ron's book, it did.

"So? And I can make friends with who I want Weasley."

Ron went red and shot a glare at both him and Draco who was wearing a smug look before storming out of the compartment.

Harry shook his head, "I swear, his face was almost as red as his hair just then."

Draco snorted and they all dropped down on the seats. No sooner had they done so before the door was opened again, this time by a scared looking Neville and Hermoine.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

Draco sneered at them, "No."

But the girl wasn't looking at him and was instead looking at Harry, or more likely, the scar on his forehead. "Are you really Harry Potter?" said Hermione. "I know all about you, of course - I

got a few extra books. for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Really." Harry said sarcastically but she hardly noticed.

"Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw

wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

He'd forgotten how annoying Hermoine could be. Once they'd left Draco sneered, "Who do you think she was, I'd bet she's a mudblood."

"She is." Harry had no qualms with calling people a 'mudblood' as he figured, it was just a word. The only reason it was offensive was because people made it so and he, quite frankly, couldn't see what was so wrong with it. Hermoine had proved all the pureblood's wrong by becoming the best witch of her generation with her 'impure' blood so really, _was _it an insult if you were better than the pureblood? Harry didn't think so.

Draco turned to him in surprise, "How do you know... And didn't you grow up with muggles?" He looked disgusted by the very thought.

"Unfortunately, but they were horrible, treated me less than the dirt on their shoes because I'm a 'freak'."

Draco looked horrified, "And Dumbledore actually _placed _you with these muggles."

Harry snorted, "Dumbledore hardly cares what happens to me as long as he can mould me into his perfect little weapon... He's a manipulative old fool."

Draco gazed at him curiously, "You're different to what I expected." He admitted but Harry merely smirked.

The rest of the train ride passed mostly in silence with some small talk in-between and soon they were pulling up at the station where Hagrid guided all the first years into the boats which would take them to the castle.

The trip passed in a breeze and soon they were all gathered in the great hall ready to be sorted. Malfoy as expected was sorted into Slytherin before the hat even touched his head and before he knew it, it was his turn.

"Harry Potter!" Mrs Mcgonagall called out and immediately the great hall was filled with whispers.

Feeling the weight of all eyes on him including those belonging to a certain, possessed professor but quite bluntly no caring, Harry walked calmly to the old wooded stool where the battered sorting hat was placed on his head.

'_Mr Potter, we meet again apparently.' _The hat chuckled in his mind. '_There's no doubt where I'll be placing you but you know that already don't you..' _

"_SLYTHERIN." _

The hall fell silent and Harry smirked. It never got old. Slowly but gradually the Slytherin table started clapping, some gazing at him in shock or unease, others glancing around smugly at the other tables. Walking over Harry took the seat next to Draco causing confused, shocked glances from the other students who were all wondering how the Malfoy heir and Harry Potter were seemingly already friends.

At the staff table the headmaster sat in a state of shock. After all, he'd specificity... _persuaded _the hat to place the boy in Gryffindor, no matter how reluctant it might have been. Albus sighed, it might be more difficult that originally planned...

Several months into the year, a bright jade coloured eyed boy with messy dark hair stood in front of the mirror of erised, staring as his reflection smirked at him and pointed at his pocket. After feeling the familiar weight of the philosopher's stone drop into his trousers, he left the underground passages and made his way to one defence against the dark arts professor's office.

After a few seconds, the door peeked open to reveal a cautious looking Professor Quirrell. "Mr P-P-Potter. Wh-What can I d-do for y-you?"

Harry smiled sweetly at the man, "I have a question about a certain spell I didn't understand professor. May I come in?"

Quirrell hesitated before nodding and opened the door wider, allowing access for the boy.

Once they were inside and seated comfortably.. Well Harry comfortably lounging on the sofa chair whilst the professor sat awkwardly opposite though the positions should have been quite reversed in normal circumstances.

"Wh-What was y-your q-question Mr P-Potter?"

Harry smirked and waved his wand, setting up several privacy wards around the office. "About that." He said, grinning viciously at the nervous professor. He shrugged. "I lied."

At that Quirrell glanced nervously at him, straightening his tie. "Wh-Whatever d-do y-you mean Mr P-Potter?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "First up, cut off the stutter because we both know it's not fooling anyone here. And to answer your question.." He grinned. "I'd like to made a deal with dear old Lord Voldemort currently residing on the back of your head."

Quirrell froze, eyes widening. "I-I'm afraid I don't k-know what you m-me_"

Harry cut him off, eyes hard yet sparkling with amusement. "I think you do professor." Was all he said, gazing deeply into the man's eyes who fidgeted under the younger boy's gaze. He'd never known a child's' eyes to contain such _emptiness _in them. No matter the emotions that occasionally flashed through his forest eyes, Quirrell could see the shadowed, void eyes. As though the boy had been through more than his age would suggest. As if the boy was simply _surviving _but not living.

The professor was about to deny the claim once again but was intervened by his master. Harry's eyebrows raised slightly as he heard the snake like voice hiss out, "_Let me speak to the boy." _

Quirrell whimpered, "But master, you are too weak.."

"_Let me speak to him!" _The voice demanded.

Snivelling slightly, Quirrell obediently, carefully unwrapped his turban and turned slowly around until the back of his head was facing Harry.

Upon seeing the wasted face of the Dark Lord, Harry smirked triumphantly. The two simply regarded each other for a while before Voldemort spoke. "Well Potter, why isn't Dumbledore's little _golden boy _running to the.. _esteemed _headmaster?" He hissed, sneering at the boy that was his downfall.

As soon as he mentioned Dumbledore however, Harry's smirk dropped to be replaced by a scowl. "I'm not Dumbledore's or anyone's golden boy."

He could almost feel Voldemort's disbelief and his smirk returned. "I've come to make you a deal." He stated.

"And what deal would that be?" Voldemort asked suspiciously.

Shrugging Harry stared into the deep red eyes. "I won't search for you, won't attack you or hurt you in anyway possible, won't stand in you or your follower's way as long as you and your lap dogs leave me be. As soon as I finish Hogwarts I'll leave the country and you'll never hear from me again." He said simply.

"And why would I do that?" The Dark Lord sneered, not quite believing that it was Harry Potter sitting before him.

Not at all deterred Harry flashed a smirk the Dark Lord didn't like at all. He'd known Voldemort wouldn't simply accept the offer which was why he'd fetched the stone. Reaching into his pocket, he slowly withdrew the stone, watching as red orbs widened and stared suspiciously at him.

"I'll give you the stone." He declared.

"What makes you think I want that?" It was a useless question and they both knew it. Both knew Voldemort would be accepting the offer before long.

Harry snorted, "You're a wasted spirit living off the back of someone's face. I think we both know you want the stone."

Needless to say, no one quite knew why the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor mysteriously disappeared the next day.

A small boy with brilliant eyes and untamed black hair swiftly darted into his once wife. "Sorry." He exclaimed as her cauldron was knocked out her hands and the books scattering on the floor. Profoundly apologising and constantly muttering 'sorry's' as he picked up all her books and placed them back into her cauldron before dashing away.

No one noticed the dark blue diary clutched in the boy's arms or the manic grin on his face.

Late one night in his dorm room at Hogwarts, Harry James Potter opened up Tom Marvolo Riddle's diary and grabbed a quill.

'_Hello.' _He wrote before stopping and gazing expectantly as the ink faded into the page and a reply could be seen.

'_Hello, my name's Tom Riddle. Who are you?'_

_'Hello Tom, my name's Harry.'_

_'Well Harry, how did you come across my diary?' _

_'I found it.' _Was his vague reply.

Harry could tell Tom was annoyed at the distant answer but he didn't press. '_Would you be kind enough to inform me what year it is Harry?' _

_'1992.'_

'_I see.' _

Briefly Harry wondered if the Diary would try and possess him like it did Ginny and if it would succeed. Realising he was bored and it would provide some entertainment, he decided to keep the diary and perhaps even open the chamber. Smirking he dipped the quill in some ink before writing, '_Say Tom, what year did you think it was?'_

_'I wasn't sure. I was placed inside this diary in 1943.' _

_'Placed inside?'_

_'Yes, I am a memory of myself of when I was a student at Hogwarts.'_

Harry mentally snorted at that. _**More like a piece of his soul. **_He thought smirking but decided to play the innocent, naïve and self-conscious young student.

'_That sounds complicated .' _

_'It involved some complex magic yes.' _

_'Tom.. What do you think about blood purity?'_

_'Why would you like to know Harry? Is someone picking on you because of your blood status?'_

Harry secretly admired him for his careful twist at words. He'd made it so he hadn't answered the question but wrote a normal, concerned question in return that would figure out his own blood status and therefore planning his reply accordingly. Harry could see how Tom would have managed to charm most everyone he met.

_'I'm a half-blood..' _He wrote after a brief pause as though hesitant.

_'That's okay Harry, I'm also a half-blood.'_

_'Really?!' _He feigned hopefulness.

_'Yes.' _

_'It's just, all my house-mates make fun of me because my blood is dirty.. it makes me feel horrible and I wish they'd stop.' _Time to sell the insecurities. '_And they're always saying I'm a miserable excuse for a wizard and that I'm basically a squib. That I'm a disgrace to wizards.' _

_'It's okay Harry. Just ignore them, I'm here for you.' _

_'Thank you, Goodnight Tom.'_

_'Goodnight Harry.'_

Placing the diary away Harry allowed a smirk to cross his face. Oh how fun it was to play with the future Dark Lord.

Opening his eyes Harry found himself standing in his empty dorm, rooster feathers entangled in his messy hair. It was a few months into the year and the first attacks had already happened. Harry deftly plucked the feathers from his hair, what Tom wasn't aware of was that Harry _remembered _everything he did despite the young Dark Lord's best effort. Knowing he had a role to play he got the diary out.

'_Tom!?'_

_'What is it Harry?'_

_'I..I can't remember anything, and I'm covered in feathers. I don't know how they got there, is that normal? Tom I'm scared.'_

_'Relax Harry I'm sure everything's fine.' _

Suddenly Harry wondered if he should be feeling weaker and he paused. He didn't really feel much different, perhaps a slight drain in energy but other than that he was perfectly fine.

Months later, dazzling green eyes opened to see the interior of the Chamber of Secrets.

"You shouldn't have woken." A soft voice spoke from behind him and he shot up, aware of the diary currently resting in his arms. Turning slowly he saw the younger version of Lord Voldemort and his breath was momentarily taken away. Tom Riddle was even more handsome than he remembered, realising he was staring he shook his head and smirked at the 16 year old boy who was gazing at him curiously if a little smugly. He'd caught him looking.

"You are stronger than I expected." Riddle admitted, not taking his icy blue eyes off of Harry.

"I guess I'm just full of surprises." Harry said, easily standing up and flashing the other boy a grin. "Hello Tom. We finally meet in person."

Riddle didn't reply, simply continued to gaze curiously at him as though waiting for Harry to drop dead. Finally he spoke, "It appears you are not all you seem."

Harry snorted, "Neither are you Riddle. Pretending to be a harmless diary just to possess me and then drain me so you can gain power." Harry shook his head in mock horror before laughing.

A perfect eyebrow was raised, "You knew?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you get rid of my diary then?"

Flashing the almost opaque boy a devilish grin Harry replied, "Where would be the fun in that Voldemort?"

Tom Riddle froze, "How do you know that name?" He hissed fiercely, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Let's just say your future self and I have a.. complicated past."

The handsome boy studied Harry for a moment, "You know more than you should."

Harry just shrugged, "True, well, I had better get back and put to rest my dear headmasters' fears of my death." He turned to leave but was interrupted by a soft voice.

"And what makes you think I'm going to allow you to leave?"

The smaller boy pouted, "I'm not going to tell anyone don't worry. I'm also a master at occlumency."

Staring into Riddle's eyes, Tom suddenly and without warning, viciously attacked Harry's mind only to be come up against an impenetrable wall. No matter where he pushed, not a single crack appeared and Tom reluctantly withdrew.

Silence fell as the Dark Lord considered his options, "I suppose I'll let you live, but only because you shall be a valuable ally to have." He smirked, "So I shall require an oath."

Hearing this, Harry frowned and peered at him suspiciously, "An oath promising what?"

"Promising your alliance, that is all."

Harry bit his lip. He wasn't bothered about giving him his alliance if he was honest, he was way past caring about much in his life. He just wasn't sure how older Voldie would take it. Oh well he thought, it'll be a laugh anyway.

Nodding his acceptance Tom smirked smugly and grasped his hand. " A blood oath." He stated firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Harry just nodded, after all, he had no desire to go back on his promise.

A month before September 1st one Harry Potter strolled down Diagon alley purchasing potion supplies. A now '16' year old wizard hurried into the desolate apothecary in Knockturn alley, getting out of the brewing storm. Lightening struck, making the shadows jump and flash eerily, leaping out at the emerald eyed boy as though to swallow him whole.

Absently, Harry fiddled with his time turner, for some reason he felt a surge of uneasiness sweep through him. Thunder cracked nearby, the deafening noise making Harry jerk, the turner snapping off it's chain and flinging out of his hands. Harry could only stare helplessly as the clock smashed into the wall, sending glass and bursts of magic everywhere. Lightening once again struck down and a jolt of electricity surged through the shop, causing the windows to smash and the bottles holding potion ingredients to shatter. Pure magic seemed to swirl around him, engulfing him in their crackling sparks of energy and then... and then he was gone.

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**A/N:** A few lines taken from '_The Philosopher's Stone' _In where Harry meets Draco. Hope this was alright! It does get more interesting (Hopefully) in the coming chapters.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Living To Die **_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter unfortunately. All credit goes to J.K Rowling!

**A/N: CHAPTER WARNING: **There will be a bit of vague torture in this chapter though not much... Just thought I should warn you anyway.

**Notes: **_Warning, this fan-fic will likely contain gore, torture, murder, sexual themes, gay themes and swearing. If you are not a fan of any of these I suggest finding another story... More might be added as the story progresses. Enjoy!_

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_**Chapter 2: **_

With a burst of blinding pain Harry became slowly aware of his surroundings and realised he was holding his head in his hands. Glancing up he saw the apothecary he was standing in only there was no broken glass and no storm occurring outside. Feeling someone's eyes on him he looked up to see the clerk standing behind the counter staring a him in confusion and disbelief. What was strange though was how _big _everything seemed.

Shaking his head he turned and left, head still pounding and feeling slightly disorientated. As soon as he reached Diagon alley he knew something was off. For one thing, many of the shops had changed and another, the people. He wasn't quite sure _what _about the people was different, just that there was.

Staring dazedly around him he walked passed a shop window where he stopped and gazed in disbelief at the newspaper displayed. 1942. _1942! _Harry's eyes widened in incredibility. _How had..? _

With a sudden shock he guessed at what must have happened. He'd had no idea a time turner could send him this far back but the electricity obviously boosted it. Then a gleam of hope made itself present in him. Perhaps... Perhaps he could actually die this time, seeing as how he was in a different time.

However, this also filled him with uncertainty because no matter how much he often wished he could just stay dead, he couldn't help but feel that small spark of fear at the unknown. That, perhaps, this time he _wouldn't _wake up in his mother's arm but would only know darkness.

Then he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of a shop window and his eyes widened considerably. He realised now why everything seemed so big for, staring back at him, was his 6 or 7 year old self. So not only had he been sent back in time, but he'd somehow de-aged also. That might make things slightly harder.

Harry then started walking through the crowd of people towards the Leaky Cauldron, hoping it would still be there. Much to his relief, it was and he entered, no one paid any attention to the young boy. Walking up to the counter where a much younger Tom was serving, Harry spoke quietly, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

"May I get a room?"

Tom- the bartender- stared at him with inquisitive eyes, "Do you have any money on you kid?"

Nodding, Harry reached into his oversized robes and withdraw a galleon along with 6 sickles.

"Alright then, follow me kid."

The bartender didn't ask any questions to which Harry was grateful and he followed him to his given room. It was quite bare with only a single plain bed along with a dresser and lamp but Harry wasn't expecting anything more for the price.

Now he had somewhere to stay for the night but he knew it wouldn't last long. He had a total of 50 galleons and 200 knuts left in his robes which gave him maybe one week if he was lucky to survive on the bare minimal. What he would do when that week ran out he wasn't sure. There wasn't much he could do as a 6 year old after all.

First things first, Harry made a decision.

Standing in front of the plain mirror in his cramped bathroom he took a deep breath, staring at his reflection. An almost clone of James Potter. Glancing at himself for the last time, he cut a rune in the centre of his chest, all the time muttering the Latin words he'd found in an ancient book he'd once studied when he'd found out about the glamour but had never yet had the courage to use. As he progressed onto the second rune on his upper left arm, magic swirled around him, the air quickly grew thick with magic and he suddenly found it hard to breath. With a last shaking breath he muttered the last few words and found himself in unimaginable agony. Biting his lip until crimson blood trickled down his chin to keep from screaming, he stared into the mirror. As he watched, his features changed, his hair loosing it's wild untameable appearance and his face gaining a more aristocratic look. Sharper cheekbones and features yet still retaining some of the softer features of Lily. If possible, his eyes seemed to grow even brighter and his face remained angelic looking despite the sharper look.

As suddenly as it started, the pain ended and he found himself looking at his new reflection. He could clearly see the more prominent Black look in his features yet the softness of Lily was still there. All in all, he rather liked his new appearance, especially as it took him further away from his Harry Potter identity. He no longer wanted anything do do with his previous life, here he was free, with nothing tying him down.

* * *

The week ended much quicker than Harry would've liked and he found himself in the middle of London, homeless.

The 'young' boy strolled down a silent street as an evil smirk took over his features. The 'itch' was back. Calling for dark magic. The small figure covered by a pure black cloak that clung snugly to his lithe figure kept his eyes peeled open, waiting silently and patiently for his victim. Before long, a couple of slightly drunk teenagers came stumbling out of a bar and sauntered up to where he was standing hidden in the shadows. He was glad they were only slightly drunk, it took most of the fun out of it when they could hardly realise what was happening. Before either could so much as scream, they were stunned and levitated into a deserted alley. Privacy wards were placed and Harry turned back to the two drunk men of around 18.

Shooting an _enervate _at them Harry watched silently as they came around and glanced round in confusion. He then bound one, restricting him from moving and the other's eyes widened comically as a dark figure stepped out of the shadows, the orange light from an overhanging lamp making his pale skin look eerie and terrifying to the two men despite him being several times smaller than them.

"Wh- What do you want?" One managed to stutter, gazing fearfully at the dark and mysterious boy in front of him. Because that was what he was. A boy, no older than 7.

"What do I want?" Harry pondered. "To hear you scream." Harry sent the terrified man a malicious smirk, making the angelic face appear so evil it looked alien on a 6 year old face.

The man gulped and, casting a fleeting glance at his friend, turned and sprinted off. Harry only laughed after him. "Yes do run, it makes it so much more entertaining when they do."

Sean was petrified, something about the boy made him want to curl up in his bed and never come out, despite knowing it was only a small boy and in all reality, he shouldn't be the least bit frightened. However, the way the young child's eyes glinted maliciously he could tell that it was no ordinary child and that, quite honestly, he _should _be terrified. He ran down the alley, following all the twists and bends and hearing the malevolent laughter behind him. Soon, the laughter started to fade and he spared a glance behind him, seeing nothing. Breathing a sigh of relief he paused, gasping for breath.

Mistake.

Then he froze, he could feel warm breath tickling the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine and he shuddered weakly, drawing a small chuckle from the monster behind him. Then he was running again, this time never stopping to look back. Pure ice had settled over his heart and his blood was pumping furiously through his veins.

Laughter followed him, shadows leapt out forebodingly as if trying to strangle him. And though no footsteps could be heard, Sean knew the boy was still there, following him from the shadows, toying with him.

Finally he turned a corner, only to come up against a dead end and he skidded to halt. Slowly and unwillingly, he painfully turned around, his heart threatening to burst. And he found himself gazing straight into cold, merciless, emerald eyes and he knew then and there that he wouldn't live to see the morning.

No sooner had he thought that than a flash of light appeared and hit him square on the chest, the last thing he saw being the bright green light the exact same colour of his murderer's unpitying eyes.

Harry stared indifferently as the corpse hit the ground. He would have liked to have tortured the muggle but he'd left the privacy wards. There was still the other one however, currently bound in the alley. Eyes flashing wickedly, he apparated back, shocking the muggle who was violently struggling against the invisible bonds.

Gazing at the man with a look in his eyes the muggle didn't like at all, foreign sounding words were mumbled from perfect lips and the next thing he knew was unimaginable pain, sending him thrashing and screaming in agony. He screamed, screamed until his voice grew hoarse and his mind slowly lost it's sanity. And all throughout this Harry laughed, laughed as blood splattered on the walls and stained his robes. Laughed as the man's eyes gradually lost it's light and grew dull and unseeing. Laughed when the once wildly flailing body grew still and fell silent. Only once he apparated away from the scene did he fall quiet, wondering just at what point he had lost his sanity.

* * *

Night had completely fallen and all was silent save for the occasional car or breath of wind. Harry Potter stumbled his way through the streets, his small frame feeling week and fragile due to the lack of food and sleep in his system. 15 nights had passed since he became homeless and Harry found himself becoming increasingly desperate. He'd stolen money and food whenever he could but the nights were cold and all he had was one pair of now worn clothes since he'd purchased them in Diagon alley. A black shirt followed by black pants with a cloak that hid his features and helped him blend into the shadows. A cough erupted from from his chest and he spluttered, loosing his footing and stumbling, falling onto the harsh ground.

He growled in frustration, he hated feeling week and vulnerable, he'd promised himself a long time ago he would never let himself feel like that again. But as it turned out, he didn't have a choice. It took rather a lot of effort but he managed to lift his head, despite the temptation to simply close his eyes and let go, and found himself staring at a dismal grey building.

'_Wool's Orphanage.' _

A rusty sign read and Harry could have cried with relief. The name seemed slightly familiar but he put that at the back of his mind and with his last hidden strength, forced himself to stand and staggered towards the ray of hope. Making it past the old iron fence he weekly knocked on the door, resisting the urge to fall forward, and waited impatiently for someone to answer.

When the door finally did open, it was by a strict looking woman with greying hair and sharp eyes that took in the figure before her for only one second before opening the door wider... To which he promptly collapsed.

* * *

"... his parents?"

"Maybe he doesn't have any. What with the war I wouldn't be too surprised. Too many children are ending up orphans because of it Martha."

A sigh, "It's terrible really..."

Harry frowned and pressed his eyes even more firmly together, trying to block out the noise. All he wanted was sleep.

Unfortunately, his wish was not granted for their voices continued and finally, he shot his eyes open in annoyance.

"...and I.. Oh, he's awake!" A feminine voice called out and he sat up in bed to see the women that had opened the door to him earlier and another girl perhaps in her mid twenties staring at him in concern.

The older woman peered at him for a moment before speaking, her voice sharp and firm, "Do you remember how you got here boy?"

Harry shook his head.

"What about your parents, do you know where they are?"

At that Harry nodded and the two women seemed relieved. Time to play the innocent child. He'd had years perfecting his act and it didn't let up now. Smiling sweetly at the two, he spoke in an angelic voice. "They're in heaven."

Hearing this, the women's eyes widened considerably and filled with sadness. Harry cocked his head to the side and squinted his eyes, as though in confusion. "Do you know how I get there? A man told me that was where they went see." He forced some tears, "They promised they would come back but they never did." He wailed and the older women looked on in alarm. Martha thought her heart might be broken.

"Sweetie.. I'm afraid they won't be coming back." At that the small boy's cries loudened and Martha hurried to continue, "But they are in a much better place now, where they are safe and happy."

Harry sniffed and peered up at her, "B-But, how can they be happy without me? They p-promised!"

Not able to take it anymore, Martha wrapped her arms around the frail boy, gently stroking his hair and at loss for words. "How old are you?"

"Six." Harry replied, although it was a guess on his part.

"And what's your name sweetie?"

Harry paused, what name should he use? After a few seconds of silence, Harry decided to use his birth name: Silas Regulus Black.

"S-Silas."

"Do you have a last?" Martha's voice was kind and comforting as she smiled down at the small angelic boy.

"Black."

Behind Martha, the other woman spoke up though her voice had lost it's sharp quality, "Well Mr Black, it seems you will be staying here for the near future."

Harry gazed at her in confusion, "Here?"

"You are at Wool's orphanage and I am the matron, Mrs Cole."

Once again, Harry was struck with the strongest sense of familiarity. Then he looked down at himself dressed in an itching grey uniform and panicked, where was his robe? And more importantly, his wand.

"M-Miss.. Where are my clothes?"

"We threw them away I'm afraid, they were completely dirty and torn and covered in blood." Here the matron looked at him inquisitively, completely ignorant to the boy's growing panic.

He needed his wand. It was a part of him. "Was there anything in the clothes?" He asked innocently.

Mrs Cole nodded and pointed to something next to the bed he was lying on. "Only that stick... Goodness knows why you were carrying that around."

Relief coursed through Harry and he smiled, "Thank you."

Nodding, Mrs Cole turned to leave, "I expect you to be down for breakfast in 20 minutes and you can meet the other children."

Harry merely nodded and watched as both women leaved, Martha sending him a reassuring smile on the way out.

As soon as the door had closed, Harry grasped his wand from the desk, relaxing considerably once he felt it's smooth, familiar wood in his small hands. Now what would he do with it? It might make people suspicious if he walked around with a stick all the time. Then his eyes brightened as an idea came to him and he quickly transfigured the wand into a red toy car, small enough to fit in his pockets. After all, he was only 6, no one would suspect anything was odd about it.

Glancing around his room he noticed it was very dull and plain, with only a small bed, a desk, window and a bed-stool next to him with a old looking lamp on it. The wall paper was cream and was peeling in most places while the ceiling looked covered in dust and cobwebs. He sighed, it might not be the nicest of places but it was better than living out on the streets in the cold with no food or shelter.

After around 20 minutes of doing nothing but lying on his bed, there was a knock on his door and a gruff voice called through. "Breakfast!"

Harry blinked, time to see the other people of this orphanage. He had no interest in making friends however, especially not with muggles.

Making sure his 'toy car' was safely in his pocket, Harry made his way to the kitchen, following some other children who were also on their way. In silence, Harry joined the line and tried his best to blend in. It wasn't hard, he was already in the uniform and he had the advantage of being small causing most to overlook and ignore him completely.

After receiving a meager portion of something Harry didn't think deserved to be called food, he glanced around the tables, looking for a secluded area he could sit it. Almost immediately, his eyes were drawn to a small table at the back of the room that everyone else seemed to avoid like the plague. He frowned, but then shrugged, making his way slowly over and dropping himself down on a stool.

For some reason, this gained the opposite effect to what he was trying to achieve and he soon felt all eyes go to him much to his confusion. His confusion however, was answered moments later when a shadow fell across his tiny form.

Tom Riddle scowled, his fifth year at Hogwarts had ended and now he was back here, at the dreaded orphanage and surrounded by filth once again. He woke up on the first morning back and unwillingly went down to breakfast, his only condolence being that he knew everyone would leave him alone. He smirked, they were so easy to scare, easy to control.

Everyone gave him a wide berth as he got his food and sneered at the ghastly mess he'd have to put up with for the next couple of months. Turning, he almost dropped his tray in shock for, sitting at _his _table, was some disgusting muggle child who was simply staring blankly at his tray.

Recovering from his shock, Tom allowed a smirk to cross his face. Looked like they had a little newbie in the orphanage and Tom would be only too happy to show him his place. Strolling confidently over to the new boy, he towered over him and slammed his tray on the table. Watching in satisfaction when the boy's head jerked up.

Confusion followed by realisation flashed through bright green eyes along with something the older boy couldn't identify before they were filled with curiosity and a little fear much to his pleasure. Of course, Tom didn't know that Harry was in fact faking those two emotions as he gazed darkly at the small child.

"This is my table." He spoke softly, his voice dangerously low. Anyone else would have scurried away in fear and never come near him again but it seemed this boy lacked the intelligence to do just that.

"Oh?" He asked instead before picking up his spoon and scooping up some of the slop, watching with distaste in those jade eyes as it dropped back onto his plate in a sticky mess.

"Yes. So move." He placed a control in his voice, something he'd learnt he could do from a very young age but to his surprise and annoyance, the boy merely gazed at him, unaffected.

"There are plenty more seats." He said instead and Tom resisted the urge to strangle him then and there. Instead, he stiffly sat down, his eyes filled with anger. He'd get the boy later and he would know not to mess with him ever again.

Harry watched with slight amusement as the future dark lord sat down several seats away from him, his anger evident. Both ignored the other and Harry started to eat what was on his plate with no amount of pleasure. He wouldn't have even bothered _smelling_ it if he didn't need some food in him to survive.

As soon as he had finished he left, deciding to wonder round a bit and figure out his bearings. Walking around, he discovered a lounge area with a small TV and couches, the back door which led to a rather large garden and swing-set, he learnt that all the children's rooms were on the second floor. He also discovered the library that was by far the most interesting aspect. Not that it was very big or contained that many books but it was something for him to do to pass the time before he figured out what to do from here.

Picking a copy of '_War And Peace' _from one of the shelves, he made his way back to his room. Upon entering he settled on his bed only to feel something moving under the covers. Eyes widening, he jumped off the bed and in one swift movement, yanked the cover off to find a 4 foot snake slithering towards him. He recognised the black and white snake to be an Eastern Kingsnake (_Lampropeltis getula__**)**_, non-venomous much to his relief.

Briefly he wondered how it had got under his sheets before it became obvious. _Riddle. _There was no other possibility really and he almost laughed at Riddle's attempt to frighten him. The fact that it wasn't venomous meant that he hadn't meant to poison him but instead, just scare him and perhaps, any other 6 year old _would _have been terrified.

As it was, Harry only smiled at the snake and slowly, gently stuck his arm out. "_I will not harm you." _He hissed and the snake froze.

"_Another sspeaker."_

"_Yess." _He didn't have to ask who the other was.

The glossy black snake coiled around his arm. "_He ssaid to frighten you.. you do not sseem frightened." _

Harry laughed, "_I have no reasson to be."_

He left the room and, after making sure the coast was clear, hurried down the stairs and to the back door. "_It'ss besst if you leave." _

After a second where it didn't seem to want to do just that, the snake obediently uncoiled itself and slithered away into the grass, disappearing from view after a minute. _You're going to have to do better than that Riddle. _Harry thought gleefully, turning and walking back to his room.

What he didn't realise however, was that Riddle had been watching from the shadows outside his room. Tom had been expecting a scream. So when none came, he left his room just in time to see the new boy exit his. As the boy turned his head, looking around him, Tom easily hid in the corner beneath the shadows.

What surprised him however, was when the brilliant emerald eyed boy turned to walk away and he noticed the very snake he had sent to his room, coiled comfortably around the boys arm. Going all the way from his wrists to his shoulders.

Tom's eyes widened in shock though he would never admit to doing so. Perhaps this new boy needed more watching than he originally thought...

* * *

**A/N: Y**es, I am making Harry's character incredibly OOC but this is how I wanted him and I'll blame it on the Black insanity genes ;) X


	3. Chapter 3

_**Living To Die**_

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter never has been and to my distress, never will be mine...

**A/N: **Please let me know if you think it is moving too fast or too slow xx I'm always interested to hear your opinions and any constructive criticism you have and I am open for any suggestions xox

**Notes: **_Warning, this fan-fic will likely contain gore, torture, murder, sexual themes, gay themes and swearing. If you are not a fan of any of these I suggest finding another story... More might be added as the story progresses. Enjoy!_

_**People fear death even more than pain. It's strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over. Yeah, I guess it is a friend.  
~Jim Morrison**_

_**Chapter 3:**_

Two days of little interest had passed and Harry was currently sitting in a hard cushioned chair in the library reading '_Romeo And Juliet.' _Just as he finished and closed the book shut, he felt a presence near him. Glancing up he saw, to his slight surprise, Tom Riddle sit on the chair opposite him. The older boy didn't say anything at first, instead simply staring at Harry before turning his gaze to the book in his hands. Harry didn't miss the sneer in his eyes as he took in the title.

"I'm afraid I never properly introduced myself." Tom's voice was soft and charming and Harry could understand how Riddle got most people under his thumb. "I'm Tom Riddle... And you are?"

"Silas Black." Black might be a well known wizarding name but it was also a common enough surname for a muggle to have.

"There are much simpler books you know." Riddle said, nodding to the closed copy in Harry's hands, indicating he didn't believe Harry could actually read it though he wasn't really surprised. He was supposedly only six after all.

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Yes there probably is." He admitted.

Riddle narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, "_Romeo And Juliet." _He mocked, "A _tragic _tale of two lovers." He sneered.

Harry cocked his head to the side, "Yes, it's both amazing and horrible what love can make people do."

He noticed how Riddle's lips curled at the mention of love. He knew the future Dark Lord did not believe there was something called love. "Is there a reason you joined me?" Harry asked, his eyes wide and innocent.

Ignoring the question, Riddle pierced Harry with his dark eyes. "It is not _love, _merely foolishness."

"I don't think they were foolish," Harry replied, watching as Riddle scorned, "Simply weak."

Hearing this, Tom raised an eyebrow, gesturing for him to continue. Harry smiled disarmingly at him, "They both died because they could not bare to live without the other. That just proved they were dependent on each other which is a show of weakness." Harry's gaze turned bitter, "Depending on others is weak, people only hold you back from what you could become."

Tom penetrating gaze stayed on Harry for a moment, sizing him up, taking him in before he spoke, his eyes wild and with an almost frenzied glint to them, "Love is a weakness." he said in a low voice, studying the strange boy in front of him. Most six year old's didn't think like that, they were ignorant to the world and believed in fairytales. The boy- Silas- was different, he was wiser than most, that Tom could tell simply by looking into his eyes and by the way he spoke. As if he had seen what others could only dream of seeing and faced horrors people couldn't even imagine.

Tom wondered how he could use this to his advantage.

Harry surveyed Riddle as he thought and was struck with the unexplainable urge to confess to the tall boy what he was. Which was an absurd idea in itself. But, Harry couldn't help but think of the possibilities. The boy before him knew so much, had knowledge that he hadn't had access to during his time and was one of the most powerful and genius minded wizard out there. For he knew Riddle had a brilliant mind, and that was the only thing left for Harry. Life was _boring. _It was bound to get that way when you lived the same life over and over again and the one thing that Harry treasured above all now was new knowledge and experiences. This was certainly a new experience.

Though Harry did wonder where the strange desire to divulge all his secrets to Riddle came from.

Just then, a shadow loomed over them and both looked up to see a boy of about 9 standing nervously before them. After struggling with himself for a moment, he turned to Harry, obviously deciding to completely ignore the other boy who was currently sneering in distaste at the blonde.

"Hi." He said, giving Harry a short smile. "Why don't you come join us?" His voice was pompous and arrogant, leaving Harry no doubt that he expected to be obeyed.

So Harry gave him a massive grin. "I'm fine here thanks!" He said cheerfully.

The rather plump blonde haired boy blinked stupidly a couple of times, "Well, I just thought I would warn you." Here is eyes flickered to Tom. "You don't want to be making friends with the.. _wrong _sort you know."

Harry pretended to look confused. "Wrong... Sort?"

The boy nodded vigorously, "See." He leaned in a whispered, oblivious to the fact that Tom could still hear him. "Bad things happen around him. He's _odd. _A freak."

Satisfied he leant back and Harry relaxed again, risking a glance at Riddle he noticed he hadn't moved a muscle and his face was perfectly expressionless. However, Harry could see the anger and hatred burning in the dark eyes and knew something bad would be happening to the muggle soon. Not that he cared for that matter.

Harry widened his eyes innocently, "But... How is he a freak?"

The boy's eyes widened in horror and he shot Riddle a glance, paling considerably when he saw the unmissable rage in those midnight eyes.

"N-Never mind. Just... trust me on this." He stuttered.

To his surprise, Harry's eyes darkened considerably. "Trust must be earned." He said lowly, piercing the other boy with his gaze. Harry trusted _no one. _

Gulping, dull blue eyes flickered between the two before turning and practically running away from them. Harry watched him go with a small smirk.

Then he turned to Riddle, who was looking at him curiously and Harry flashed him a bright smile. "Do you want me to get him back for you?" He asked earnestly and Riddle blinked in surprise.

But then a minuscule smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, "Go ahead." He said softly. He wanted to see what the child was capable of.

Harry's reply was a malicious grin before he jumped up from his position on the chair and walked back to his room. Just the thought of causing some damage to that muggle that, unluckily for the boy, reminded Harry of Dudley, filled Harry with wild delight. It was about time he had some excitement in his otherwise dull life.

The next morning Harry woke early at only 3 o'clock to put his plan into action. For some unfathomable reason, Harry felt the need to impress Riddle and therefore, his plan was rather cruel. Scratch that, it was ruthless and what many would define as 'evil' but Harry no longer cared. He didn't care for the annoying muggle and didn't think the world would miss him either.

And so, he crept down the the kitchens, using wandless magic to open the locked door. He managed to climb up on the counter top and found himself in front of many locked cabinets that the children were forbidden access to. Placing his hand on the lock, he focused his magic and within seconds, it was unlocked and open. His eyes glanced over all the bottles and containers until they stopped on a specific one and an evil smirk lit up on his refined features. Resisting the urge to laugh manically, he opened the rat poison and shook the whole bottle into his hand. Grinning like a madman he quickly left, locking everything up and leaving no evidence of him being there behind.

Then he simply went back to his room, plan in motion and fell back into an uncomfortable sleep.

_He was back again. In his first life towards the end, the final minutes of his life. _

_He was running, his breath coming out in pants and his forehead dripping with perspiration as he focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Finally he made it to the run-down shack that he and Ginny- his wife- had been hiding in. They'd managed to last five months before the muggles found them. Muggles. He almost laughed. Running from muggles, how ironic was that? _

_If Voldemort could somehow see them now Harry was sure he was laughing._

_Little over 4 years ago war broke out between muggles and magical beings. They might have had magic at their disposal but the muggles outnumbered them in masses. First they would capture any being that wasn't perfectly 'normal' and experiment on them, finding their strengths and weaknesses and trying to see if they could take their powers for their own. Then came the murdering. There was no mercy on either side as the war progressed but they soon lost, in all reality, they had never really had a chance at winning. Now it was just the straggles of wizards and witches left to hide and run for survival. _

_Everyone Harry once knew was dead with the exception of his wife. He'd even watched as his children were murdered in front of him something that he could never rid his mind of. Thinking back on it, he and Ginny had done relatively well, managing to stay hidden for 3 years even if they could never truly relax. But it seemed their luck had come to an end. _

_Something was wrong with the shack, he realised as he got closer and the smell of burning filled his nose. Panic gripped at him as he saw the flames soar high and engulf the shelter. Ginny! She was his only thought as he rushed into the flames, his mind not registering the pain as the flames viciously attacked him. He barely got very far before he became blind, the smoke was too heavy and it obscured his vision. With a cry filled with emotion he collapsed, his shout signalling everything he couldn't say. _

_Despair, hopelessness, anger, hatred, pain, grief. _

_As he hit the ground however he felt something near him. Focusing his magical core he managed to create a small bubble of space, cleared of smoke. His wand had long since been taken and broken. What he saw however made him scream in grief and rage. For there was Ginny, her lifeless corpse barely recognisable in it's twisted and deformed state, burnt to crisp. _

_Alight with furious anger at the muggles who had taken everything from him he apparated, managing to appear just behind the group of ten muggles who were all staring at the burning shack, an expression of victory and glee on their repugnant faces. _

_Viciously and without warning, Harry attacked, using only his knife and gun and the occasional wandless magic. He managed to take them all out but then more came, but he never stopped fighting, never gave in. But his old bones were worn and strained, he'd lived for 123 years after all and it was catching up to him. _

_As he prepared to swipe his knife at yet another muggle, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest and he paused, glancing down to see a red patch spread over his torn shirt. He blinked, not quite comprehending what had happened before he fell to the ground. The last thing he saw was the muggles triumphant face and his last though was that he'd finally be with everyone again. Then he slipped into darkness..._

Harry gasped and shot up in bed. That was the first time he'd had a nightmare since... he couldn't even remember. In fact, he could barely remember anything of most of his lives. That day just seemed to stay with though, tormenting his thoughts and a constant reminder of why the muggles should _never _learn of them. A constant reminder of his burning hatred.

Sighing he then heard the almost familiar sound of someone pounding against his door and he quickly changed, grabbing several of the pellets before he left and using his magic to crush them into tiny particles in his fist.

Walking into the dining hall, his luck was with him as the blonde boy from yesterday was currently seated, slowly eating his breakfast. Strolling casually past he suddenly 'slipped' and fell into the boy who fell off his seat and they tumbled to the floor.

"I'm so sorry!" Harry replied. His eyes wide with fake horror. The boy only stared in slight confusion for a second before shaking his head and standing up, no one noticed when Harry discreetly slipped the crushed rat poison into his milk and disappear as if it wasn't there.

Constantly muttering 'sorry', Harry left to get his own breakfast, feeling a smirk wanting to break out on his face but stopping himself. Then he walked over to where Riddle was seated at his usual table.

Riddle cocked an eyebrow at Harry who merely grinned, if a little malevolently. For the first couple of days nothing happened, but then the boy- Colin- started to look worse for wear. It started with mouth and nose bleeds and then his skin started to cover with bruises. Four days after ingestion, he was looking like a zombie, his skin sickly pale and eyes bloodshot. What no one realised that Harry kept slipping pellets into the other boy's drink. He was so oblivious and out of it he didn't even notice. By the time the week was up, he had begun to vomit up blood and was rushed off to the hospital only to die within minutes of arrival.

Harry felt nothing for being the cause of his death, he rarely felt anymore except from boredom. It had been oddly exhilarating, to watch as death crept closer and closer to Colin before sinking it's talons into him and dragging him into the never ending darkness that Harry longed for.

Tom felt reluctantly impressed with Silas. When he had agreed for him to take action on the pathetic muggle he had been expecting some petty trick, not for him to _kill _the boy. It was obvious that Silas felt no regret nor remorse for what he had done, in fact, Tom would go so far to say he _enjoyed _it.

* * *

Later that night, one Harry Potter or, what he was now known as, Silas Black, sat cross-legged on his bed practising his wandless magic. It was... _irritating, _being this young for it put limitations on his magic. His small body couldn't withstand the amount of power he usually had and therefore he had to work harder to gain less results. Wandless magic came naturally to him but, like an elastic band, if he didn't keep practising, it would reverse and become harder. Therefore he never stopped. Even if it was just using it for the smallest of things such as opening a jar or unlocking locks. At the Dursley's he had even used it for healing from all the cuts, bruises and breaks they had caused. Of course, he soon put them in their place.

So there he sat, levitating a copy of '_Gone With The Wind' _and concentrating fully on what he was doing. Next, while keeping his focus on the novel, he also directed his magic at the lamp beside his bed. After struggling for a moment that too began to rise and Harry smirked in triumph. So fixated on what he was doing he didn't hear the knock on his bedroom door nor, when there was no reply, the sound of the door slowly creaking open.

He heard the slight gasp however, which perhaps, in itself, was strange seeing as how the others had been louder, and his head snapped to the side, his focus dropping and the book and lamp crashing suddenly to the floor. He ignored them for the moment however, for now he found himself staring into the unconcealed surprised, dark eyes of Tom Riddle.

* * *

**A/N: **Slightly shorter chapter :( Couldn't think up anything else to add in but hope that the chapter was alright xox Any questions or suggestions please review or PM xx

~Diamondtearsx


	4. Chapter 4

_**Living To Die **_

**Disclaimer:** No, my wishes have not come true, therefore Harry Potter still doesn't belong to me...

******Notes:**___Warning, this fan-fic will likely contain gore, torture, murder, sexual themes, gay themes and swearing. If you are not a fan of any of these I suggest finding another story... More might be added as the story progresses. Enjoy!_

**_A/N:_** So this chapter is probably a lot worse than it was but my computer decided to crash and delete this chapter for me! :( It's rather tedious having to write a chapter again, especially the whole 3000 words I had originally done but here goes! And thank you to all those that followed, favourite and reviewed!

**___Hadrian Malfoy_**

___That will be explained in this chapter. Harry does question his urge to impress that wouldn't normally be there but it links to what happened in the first chapter._

**___lastcrazyhorn_**

___Yes I believe TV was available at that time though whether or not an orphanage would have had one I'm unsure of... I suck at history! As I've already written it and it's not really a major issue, I'll leave it as it is for now. Thank you for pointing it out! xx_

___**kruczezorze **_

___I understand it might be cliché and maybe boring however, you're complaining about how I made Harry's character... I don't expect everyone to like how he is but it is my story and therefore I will make him how I want him to be. The aspect of this story is that Harry is constantly reborn, I don't know about you but if that kept happening to me I'd be pretty bored and annoyed with life. All in all, he's lived for hundreds of years so yes, I imagine he **would** be powerful and knowledgeable. _

___And when you say he has no personality of his own... of course he does, he's still very much his own person. I didn't want to go into detail describing any of his other lives because the whole point of the story is he is thrown back in time and meets Tom Riddle as cliché as that is. I'm sorry you found it boring and I will take into consideration what you have said for any future fan-fics I might write. As for it being badly written... I'm not a professional author, I'm merely someone sitting at home and writing for **fun** because that's what I enjoy doing. And the way I see it, the only way I will improve is by practice. It could very well be poor but I am trying my best and telling me that it's poorly wrote without giving me any points to improve my actual writing on is rather irritating and hurtful... _

___But anyway, I'll make sure non of my other fan-fics I am writing start in the same sort of way.. This was more of a- I'll explain everything deeper in the story because otherwise it will get **super** boring. Obviously, it still is at least to some people but I thought should I include anymore it will just drag on and on about things not really needed to get the story moving. And yes, my Harry is dark and clever and beautiful and powerful! That's how I wanted him to be though he will still have flaws and make mistakes just like everyone else... _

_Diamond~_

And now that my little rant is over... enjoy!

I'm not particularly pleased with this chapter.. But I was at loss for how to improve it! Hopefully it is okay for you all and not incredibly boring like I can't help but think it is.

* * *

**_Chapter 4:_**

___How could I have been so stupid?_ Harry thought as he gazed at the still form of Tom Riddle. He should never, _never_ loose awareness of his surroundings! The years alone had taught him that not to mention Mad Eye Moody's catch phrase: '_Constant vigilance!'_ Who had always drilled it into their heads every time he got the chance.

So why oh why had he forgotten the number one rule of battle and well, his life? Surely he should have learnt by now to never let his guard down. It didn't matter that he was in _his_ room; he was in an orphanage filled with foolish and curious children not to mention _Riddle_.

He knew there was no getting out of this. He doubted Riddle would be unintelligent enough or _stupid_ enough to believe that he had just been doing some sort of Muggle magic trick. Perhaps an _'obliviate_' would work however he wasn't sure whether that would alert the ministry or not which was the last thing he wanted to do. He'd gotten away with his wandless magic for now because they had been minor spells and couldn't be traced unless done by a wand.

Unfortunately, Riddle seemed to get over his shock rather quickly and in one swift movement, he had slammed the door shut, effectively ruining any idea's Harry might have had about escaping.

"Well this certainly changes things doesn't it?" Riddle drawled, a glint in his eyes that Harry didn't particularly like. He knew he had a part to play however and he easily slipped into it, the role coming naturally to him.

He allowed his face to look fearful and widened his eyes, "P-Please don't tell anyone! I didn't- I'm not crazy!" He practically shouted the last line, his eyes betraying panic. Luckily, he'd had years to perfect his act. Having to do it in each life when he was told about magic and his status as the boy-who-lived for the 'first' time.

It seemed even Riddle was fooled by his act much to his relief as he relaxed slightly, observing Harry calmly. "I know you're not crazy." He said slowly, "I'm like you."

"P-Prove it!"

Tom smirked at hearing the command. A plan was forming in his head. Silas sounded so much like he had back before he knew about the magical world. He'd always known he was special of course. Better than everyone else. Even at Hogwarts he stood out, breezing through the curriculum and gaining full marks on most everything. One day, he knew he would become the most powerful and feared wizard to walk this earth... So feared people didn't even dare speak his name. Not Tom Riddle, no, of course not! He would go by his new name, a name that would inflict fear just by the thought of it alone: Lord Voldemort. For he knew he would become the next Dark Lord. He belonged at the top there was no doubt about it and everyone else would bow down to him. At his feet where _they_ belonged.

Silas Black, who Tom was beginning to think might be related to the noble house of Black, was still young and impressionable. It was clear he also had no moral code or at least, he didn't mind killing which would make his plan that much easier. It was also obvious that Black had an incredible amount of control over his magic for a six-year-old and that he contained an awful lot of power. Oh the _power_. Tom had felt it emanating off the boy as soon as he had entered and just knew he had to have him. Had to control him.

He would make the young boy completely dependent on him. Unwaveringly loyal to only him and willing to do anything for him. Pure loyalty was hard to find after all. The majority of his followers stuck with him out of cowardice or a thirst for power that only Tom himself could clench. It was then, that Tom decided to teach the boy, be a mentor of sorts.

Remembering Silas's... _demand_- He would have to fix that- Tom obediently raised his hand, aware he could not use a wand and focused his magic on the book Silas had levitated moments before. It shot up into the air and Tom saw awe and wild happiness flash through emerald eyes much to his satisfaction. There was something off about it though- Something that made him think it wasn't quite right.

"You see Silas," He said, his voice smooth and charming, "We're different, _special_. We're better than them." He kept his eyes trained on the small boy, imprisoning him, drawing him into their darkened depths and keeping him trapped as he gazed into the boy's soul.

"_Muggles_," He sneered the word, "Are pathetic and worthless creatures who would destroy us the second they learnt of our existence."

Well he was right about that, Harry thought, but he had to stick to his oblivious role, "Muggles?" He asked naïvely.

"Non-magical people, we are far superior to them Silas. They are _filth_." There was so much raw emotion in his voice that Harry almost reeled back. "They call us freaks but really they are just scared. Scared of our magic, of knowing that there are people more _powerful_ than they."

Tom blinked, his eyes loosing some of the fire they had contained, "We're wizards." He said softly before smirking, "And I must say well done on your little scheme. I must admit I wasn't expecting something quite so... entertaining."

A sudden surge of happiness coursed through Harry at the praise and he almost beamed. Realising what he was about to do however he stopped himself. _What the hell was that?_ That was not normal behaviour he was sure of it, he'd never felt anything like that before, not even in his first life when he would have done anything not to disappoint Dumbledore. So why on earth did he feel the need to please Riddle? He sincerely doubted it was by his own free will. _Could It be..?_ His eyes widened as he realised that yes, it very well could be. He had almost forgotten about the oath he had made in his second year. He just hoped that was as far as the blood oath went and not to the point where he had no free will of his own.

Still there was a nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him that perhaps the oath shouldn't have made him like this. It had only promised his alliance after all. He shook it away for now. Of course, now there was the issue that he couldn't betray Riddle even if he wanted to. He would have to make sure that this Riddle never found out. There was no telling how he might use it if he did.

Noticing Harry wasn't going to say anything Tom continued, "When you reach the age eleven you will attend a magical school known as Hogwarts." To his surprise, Harry could see genuine warmth in the dark eyes at the mention of Hogwarts though he supposed, he really shouldn't have been. After all, he and Tom had grown up under the same sort of conditions and Hogwarts had been _his_ first real home. It still was.

Tom continued, "There are many things they will not teach you there such as the more... darker aspects shall we say, that is why I will start tutoring you."

Harry blinked, had _Tom Riddle_ seriously just offered... no not offered, demanded that he would _teach_ him? Harry knew Tom must have an ulterior motive, most people always did. Very rarely did someone do something for someone unless they got something out of it. Even if it was just to be liked more that was still an incentive. He wasn't foolish enough to believe Riddle was doing it out of the kindness of his heart.

Harry snorted at that and said boy shot him a questioning glance which he ignored.

He would admit he rather liked the idea of being taught by Lord Voldemort. Yes, he might already know what he would supposedly be learning but Tom Riddle had one of the most brilliant minds ever, that he couldn't deny and Harry was eager to learn everything he could from the other boy. After all, there was a difference between being taught, and self tutelage which was what Harry had had to do in his other lives to learn the darker magic's.

Still, he wasn't sure. It would be so _easy_ to obliviate Riddle who had no means to defend himself without a wand. He would have surprise on his side too. All it took was one simple word. Just one word and he could go back to pretending to be a simple Muggle. Maybe he wouldn't even need a wand, if he put enough will and power into it, he was almost certain he could pull it off with no one the wiser.

Tom was... slightly disappointed when the only reaction to his words was a blank face, unblinking luminous eyes that stared, emotionless, at him. Before he could say anything more however, a small smile split out on the small boy's face and it seemed as though a decision had been made in those dazzling pools of emerald. Tom raised his eyebrows, he hadn't really been giving Silas a choice. He was startled however, when Black simply raised a hand, pointing at him. Unsure on what he was doing Tom simply stood there, waiting. Not a word was spoke and maybe it was because of that- maybe it was from pure shock alone or perhaps, something else entirely, but whatever it was, Tom found himself rooted to the spot, unable to move in the split second available before the swirling, pale green light hit him square on the chest.

The next time his eyes opened it was to the pale, peeling ceiling of his room and with no collection of what had just occurred and no memory of ever going to sleep.

As soon as Riddle was gone Harry collapsed on his bed, exhausted. The spell had taken more out of him than he would have liked leaving him feeling tired and faint. His eyelids sagged slightly and he felt something warm trickle down from his nose. Blood.

Desperately trying to stay conscious, Harry tried rapidly blinking his eyes to no avail and before long, he collapsed into oblivion.

* * *

When the brilliant emerald orbs next opened Harry had momentarily forgotten about what had occurred the night before. Wondering why he had went to sleep in his clothes, Harry stood up only to fall straight back down again. Frowning at himself, he slowly and carefully got up again, standing experimentally still before feeling satisfied that his legs would not give way on him again.

All at once, the previous night came back to him in a rush and he groaned. It had gotten too close for his liking last night. He would need to be more careful in the future. Then his mind drifted to the blood oath and the consequences of it that, at the time, he hadn't foreseen. He resolved himself to find out more information on blood magic and oaths, hopefully he could find a way to reverse it as he didn't particularly like having the desire to please and impress the Dark-Lord-To-Be.

Glancing at the time displayed on the old-fashioned clock beside his bed he suddenly gaped, it was past one in the afternoon! How had he slept for so long? Shaking his head he guessed he must have slept through the pounding on his door and realised that he had missed both breakfast and lunch. As if in time with his thoughts, his stomach let out a low growl and he resigned himself to stealing something from the kitchen, as he doubted anyone in the orphanage would be sympathetic enough to make him anything to eat, no matter how sweetly he looked at them.

Risking a glance at Riddle's door down the hall he noticed it was, like always, closed, with a seemingly foreboding atmosphere around it. How that had been achieved Harry didn't know. Taking the steps two at a time he landed soundlessly on the bottom floor before creeping to the kitchen, praying there was no one in there.

His wishes had been granted apparently as when he arrived, the room was not only unlocked, but deserted and he hurriedly but quietly grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl along with a slice of bread he found in the bread bin. After gulping down a glass of water and finishing his meagre meal, Harry left as quickly as he had entered and went outside to the garden currently filled with the other children mindlessly playing and chatting with each other, basking in the summer time sun as it's bright rays shinned down on them, warming their skin and lifting the moods of all but one.

Harry barely spared them a glance however and he tried instead to stay inconspicuous, sneaking to the iron fence that surrounded the dismal building. When he was sure he was hidden by trees and bushes, obscured from everyone else's view, he tried to climb over the fence to no avail. Grasping at the gaunt wire he tried in vain to lift himself up, succeeding in getting halfway before plunging down to the floor. Falling on the ground for what felt like the tenth time, Harry growled up at the offensive obstacle, effectively ignoring the cuts they'd blighted his hands with. _Why was it so bloody hard?_ Oh how he hated being small.

Tom watched with sight amusement as Black tried- and failed- to climb over the fence caging them in like animals. _Not that Muggles are much better than them._ He sneered to himself. He observed the way the boy almost desperately tried to escape to the point his hands were covered in blood from where the thin wire of the fence had ruthlessly slashed into his skin.

"Need some help?" Harry almost jumped out of his skin at the cool, vaguely amused voice that sounded behind him, only years of experience kept him from doing just that and he turned round to see Riddle gazing at him with a slight smirk curving up at the corner of his lips.

Crossing his arms Harry stared blankly at the tall boy, "No thanks." He said stubbornly and Tom raised a perfect eyebrow. Briefly, Harry wondered if he plucked them.

"Are you sure?" Riddle drawled, "Of course, you could just keep trying until your hands are no longer attached to your body..."

Gazing down at his hands Harry stopped a grimace forming on his face at the gruesome sight they presented. "And if I let you help me get out- What would you want in return?" He asked suspiciously.

Tom hummed thoughtfully, there wasn't really much the younger boy could give him but still, he had no interest in the punishment the pathetic matron had given him for 'breaking a window' when he had done no such thing. The brat that had actually done it had a lesson coming his way but of course, Mrs Cole would never believe him if he said he hadn't broken it and personally, Tom was sure she thought it was him that had somehow killed the impudent child the other day and was determined to punish him in any way she could. Including washing out all the mud and grime from the orphans clothes later that night.

Besides, he could do with the excuse to leave the orphanage... Not that he wouldn't have gone anyway- he had a meeting to uphold.

"Tonight you will wash the other useless orphan's clothes instead of me. Deal?" Not that he was leaving any room for argument really and Harry knew that. But he found he didn't mind, he was usually bored here anyhow and this just provided him with something to do.

"Fine."

Nodding his head Riddle started striding away, leaving Harry to practically run behind on his cursed small legs so as to keep up. He swore quietly under his breath as Riddle confidently strolled up to Mrs Cole.

"I shall be taking Silas to the village, he is desperate to use the library you see." He said, his face remaining carefully impassive.

The middle-aged women bit her lip, her eyes flickering between the two for a few seconds and clearly showing she didn't believe a word of it, Tom remained unconcerned. For a moment, she looked like she was about to object but then it died on her tongue and she sighed. "Go ahead, just be back for six o'clock."

Without another word, Riddle walked to the door, not even pausing when the matron called out from behind them, "And Riddle, please take care of him."

Her plea only fell on deaf ears however as Tom had no intention of staying with the young boy. No, he'd be visiting Diagon Alley and he would leave Black to run off and do whatever he pleased.

They walked down the street in silence for a few minutes before Riddle abruptly turned, causing Harry to almost collide with him. "I will meet you back here at ten to six, don't be late." Then he considered something, "And try not to get yourself killed while you're at it. I don't need to be lectured by that old bat because you're incapable of holding the slightest bit of competence."

Harry merely rolled his bright eyes, "I'll be careful." He said innocently while his smirk screamed anything but.

Dark eyes narrowed slightly before deciding he had obviously wasted enough time talking and walked away, the tall figure disappearing from sight after a moment.

Briefly, Harry wondered just where the upcoming Dark Lord was headed but decided it was none of his concern. Thinking over what he was looking for, he resolved himself to a trip to Diagon Alley where there would- hopefully- be a book or several on blood magic or magic oaths and bonds.

Once he was sure no one was watching he turned on the spot, disappearing in thin air with nothing but a small 'crack'. A similar noise was heard when he appeared in the apparition point present in Diagon Alley, his petite figure slinking immediately into the shadows cast by the walls.

'Flourish & Blotts', it seemed, was still there in the 40's, and Harry eagerly entered the bookshop to be greeted with the familiar site of shelves upon shelves stacked up to the ceiling with books.

It was whilst he was searching under the section 'Magical Bonds & Heritages', that he felt a presence behind him. Glaring up at the books beyond his reach, he turned to see two aristocratic teenage boys with sharp features and dark hair. The one with onyx eyes caught him staring and sneered, his handsome face twisting up in disdain, "What are you staring at Mudblood!"

Harry merely blinked his eyes a couple of times, gazing at the boy with an almost curious look on his face before turning back to the bookshelves, ignoring them completely.

They, it seemed, didn't take too kindly to being ignored and the bigger of the two, who was leering at him with dull blue eyes, grabbed him roughly by the shoulder. Harry immediately stiffened, he had always hated physical contact. During his first go at life, he had managed to get mostly over it during his time at Hogwarts, but after so long, he no longer trusted anyone anymore and loathed being touched, especially by those he wasn't close to.

"He asked you a question Mudblood!"

This time, he stared unnervingly at them. Didn't they know the word lost its enmity if it was just thrown about so often and carelessly. "I'm not one of them." He spoke, his voice coming out bored and disinterested, lacking the disgust or horror that should have been present should a pureblood have been accused of having 'dirty blood'.

The two- Harry guessed they were purebloods- gazed skeptically at him though he could understand why, he wasn't exactly dressed in the finest of clothes in-fact, they were more equivalent to rags in the eyes of the purebloods.

Letting out a sigh he gazed back up at one of the books too far from his reach, staring daggers at it as though that would make it materialize in his hands. Not wanting to use magic in front of the two people behind him and not wanting to ask for help from the owner as he planned to steal them, Harry took the only option that was available.

He turned to face the teenagers who were regarding him dubiously and made his face take on an embarrassed appearance. "Err- Could you get that book for me? I can't reach." Then he forced a blush onto his cheeks, which was decidedly harder to achieve than he thought, and peered up at them through hooded eyelids. "Please." He added as an afterthought.

The blue eyed one blinked, his gaze following where the small boy was pointing before smirking. Strolling over he easily plucked the book from the shelf and Harry held his arm out for it. The taller boy however, only grinned, if a little malevolently and tauntingly held it above his head.

"Give me one good reason why I should give this to you."

Harry huffed, "Because you've already got it and it would be rather pointless to put it back now." He pointed out bluntly.

Dull eyes blinked sluggishly a few times before frowning, as if not having thought of that himself. Harry wouldn't be surprised, he seemed rather dense.

There was a sigh of irritation from behind them and both switched their gaze to the tall boy standing there with an annoyed air about him as he gazed on disapprovingly.

"Dolohov, quit with the frivolous inanity already. Surely you don't want to be late. You should know how he hates to be kept waiting- especially after last time." There was an almost panic in those last words though it was hidden well and his smooth face remained uncaring and emotionless. It could have just been any passing statement but the effect on Dolohov was instantaneous. His face paled considerably, eyes betraying slight fear for a moment before his face was once again blank though the dread in his eyes did not dissipate.

"You're right of course Lestrange." He drawled calmly. Then he turned to Harry, who was impatiently waiting with him arms folded and sneered, "Here's your precious book." He spat, practically shoving the book at the other boy's small figure and would have likely hit him in the face had his seeker reflexes not acted up and caught it before it could do so.

Then they were gone, leaving Harry clutching the book in his arms and wondering just what they were up to. Deciding it was none of his concern, he wandlessly managed to shrink the book to fit in his pocket where it joined his 'toy car' and other shrunken books he had obtained before composedly exiting the shop as though he didn't have fifty galleons worth of books in his pocket.

As he was slowly ambling down the bustling street, his eyes were unwittingly drawn to the part of the alley that seemed to be shrouded in shadows, the dark and foreboding tunnel void of people and a far cry from the busy, lively climate of Diagon Alley.

He paused, considering. He still had a couple of hours left before he had to be back at the orphanage and he had currently only a few books linking to what he was searching for. Blood magic was decidedly more dark than light in fact, it was illegal, meaning if he wanted to find more precise information on the subject, Knockturn Alley would be the place to go.

Slipping into the shadows he was, for once, grateful for his small body as it allowed him to go unnoticed as he stealthily slid into the alley.

As soon as he had entered he could feel the difference, the shift in atmosphere. Whereas Diagon Alley felt bright and cheerful, filled with talkative people as they went about their business without a care in the world. In contrast, Knockturn Alley was filled with a sense of uneasiness and apprehension, the constant worry that what was lurking silently in the shadows would leap out at you; seize your soul as they ripped your heart out and tore it to shreds. It was not a place for the weak, and most certainly not a place for a six-year-old child.

Harry knew he might be targeted upon which was why he stuck to the darkness of the walls, taking comfort in their obscurity he knew hid him from most creatures roaming around these parts. Not that he was afraid, he knew he would be able to hold his own against anyone should they attempt anything on him, but no one else would know that. They would expect him to be more or less powerless because of his age, an easy target. And he would rather avoid any conflict if he could.

His eyes landed finally on his destination although he hadn't had a particular place in mind, and he soundlessly swept inside the shop. He was greeted by a dim store, lit only by the everlasting candles that cast an eerie glow over the room. The delicious scent of dark magic filled his nostrils and he breathed in sharply, eyes fluttering for a second as he swayed on the spot before briskly composing himself.

As he walked further into the store he took in the surroundings. There were glass cases containing all manner of objects, oddly shaped items that despite the innocent look they might portray, he knew were anything but. He walked past a gadget that would, according to the description, produced a gas that would send whoever breathed it in into an uncontrollable nightmare. Stuck in their worst fears and suffering through agony as though they were real for what felt like 4 months but was in actual fact only a day. Then there were stacks of the more rarer and... disturbing potion ingredients that couldn't be purchased at your regular, cheery apothecary. Soon he came to the part that he was truly interested in however: The books.

Only one row of books stood in the centre with merely two shelves but Harry knew the books were priceless... Or, at least, _very_ expensive. Prices he couldn't hope to afford without his vaults glared up at him from their tantalizing tags as the books lay perfectly still. Despite unmoving, the covers seemed to taunt him, as if screaming up at him in smugness, though how a book could be smug he didn't know.

Suddenly he froze, his eyes coming to rest on an extremely old-looking book, the colour long faded with the title barely readable. Squinting at the cover however he could just make out the words: _"Blood Bonds.' _It was practically perfect and yet, he couldn't hope to gain it.

Not with money at least. Casting his eyes up to the still empty counter briefly, he reached out to grab the book, his hands only inches from it's mocking cover before the sound of the door opening caused him to jerk his hand back. Risking a glance at the person who had entered he, once again, found himself frozen, this time in horror as he watched a tall, handsome Tom Riddle walk casually into the store. _He just couldn't catch a break could he?_

* * *

**A/N:** Phew, finally finished! I apologise for any mistakes there may have been and for the boring chapter! I'm not particularly sure when it will pick up... I don't really have a solid plot or much of a plot at all... I'm mainly seeing where it takes me. But I hope you enjoyed it much more than I did writing it xx Not entirely sure when the next chapter will be up but I hope to at least have it complete in a week if not sooner. I just have a ton of work to do and catch up on unfortunately! xox

~Diamondtearsx


	5. Chapter 5

**_Living To Die _**

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and everything in them belongs to the wonderful J.K Rowling!

**Notes:**_Warning, this fan-fic will likely contain gore, torture, murder, sexual themes, gay themes and swearing. If you are not a fan of any of these I suggest finding another story... More might be added as the story progresses. Enjoy!_

_**A/N: **__**Warning: **_Chapter contains some torture/violence, not really detailed but I'll put the warning in anyway though I really shouldn't have to as I have a warning at the start of every chapter!

Sorry for the delay! I know I said it would be updated by the end of the week but for those who didn't read my profile, my computer was taken apart and had new parts bought for it as it was rather broken. Hopefully, it will work fine now and I hope you enjoy the chapter! Thank you so much to everyone that reviewed, fanned and favourited! It means a lot to me to know that people are enjoying my fan-fiction!

* * *

_**Chapter 5:**_

"M'Lord."

"You're late."

Lestrange and Dolohov both audibly gulped, eyes flitting nervously around the small room they'd borrowed in a shady inn near the entrance/exit of Knockturn. Everyone else was already there and staring at them with a mixture of pity, glee and excitement.

"My apologies M'Lord." Lestrange said smoothly, falling gracefully down to his knees. He was soon followed by Dolohov only less elegantly.

"We got..." He hesitated and Lord Voldemort raised an eyebrow, observing the two before him with their heads bowed in submission.

"You got what Lestrange? Please do finish your sentences."

Another gulp, "_Held back M'Lord."

The Dark Lord hummed thoughtfully, "And pray tell me, what you felt was more important than arriving to my meeting on time?" The question was asked casually and had they not known what their Lord was like, they would have allowed themselves to relax. As it were however, they both tensed instead.

It was Dolohov who answered this time though, "By a _Mudblood_ My Lord." He sneered and Lestrange held his breath, inwardly cursing Dolohov and his Gryffindor mouth.

"So you're telling me," Their Lords voice was dangerously low and most of them could feel the dark magic crackling in the air around them, preparing to strike. "That the reason you are late to _my_ meeting, is because of something as insignificant and worthless as a _Mudblood?"_

Both of the cowering teenagers stayed silent, not daring to speak for fear of his wrath. They got it anyway. _"Answer me!"_ The words were practically hissed and both recoiled in fear, eyes fixed on the floor in a desperate attempt to make themselves inconspicuous.

"Y-Yes My Lord." Dolohov whimpered. No sooner had the words left his mouth than they heard the dreaded word everyone had been waiting for:

_"Crucio."_ It was said so casually, so disinterestedly that one might have thought he was discussing the weather and not torturing two teenage boys.

Agony filled screams then swamped the room, echoing round while filling the more sadistic members with a sense of thrill and would have undoubtedly been heard by the other occupants of the inn if not for the silencing wards placed around them. The curse was kept on for a full two minutes before it was released.

"Get up."

Both boys did so without a protest, knowing it could have been much worse. They struggled to stand, still shaking from the after effects of the curse and found themselves leaning against the wall for support. No one helped them.

Just when they thought they were free, the Dark Lord turned to Dolohov thoughtfully, "This is the second time you've been late to my meetings. Isn't it Antonin?"

Antonin froze, unwilling to answer and an evil smirk twisted up on their Lord's face. "Yes, it seems you didn't learn your lesson the first time." He said, his tone could almost pass for sympathetic if his eyes didn't scream excitement and danger. "I do not tolerate lateness Dolohov, perhaps it's time you remember that." His voice was ice cold, unforgiving and Dolohov knew he was in for another round of torture.

He wasn't wrong. Curses he'd never heard of before were sent his way while everyone else watched either eagerly, or just thankful that it wasn't them. At one point his flesh was exceedingly slowly peeled away before feeling like it was burned back on, then he was put in a state of nothingness. No sight or smell or touch, he couldn't even hear anything, left in a void of emptiness for what felt like an eternity. He was sure he was screaming, clawing at his own skin if just to _feel _something. Slowly being driven mad before he was finally released from the spell and allowed to stand up although it took some effort.

He was ignored for the rest of the meeting, a meeting that mind you, didn't last long. Once it was over and everyone had left, Tom too, exited the inn satisfied with how things had turned out. Even away from Hogwarts he had complete control over most of the Slytherin's. His knights were still as loyal and eager to please as they had been when they'd left. Now Tom only had to hope they would remain competent and not forget everything he had taught them since he'd formed their little group. He wouldn't have insufficient and incapable wizards following and doing tasks for him after all.

Leaving the inn he then turned to go further into the Alley, he was owed a certain book...

* * *

It took all of two seconds for Harry's mind to register what he was seeing and another one for him to swiftly dart behind the nearest display; which happened to be showcasing some sort of different coloured rocks with sharp angles.

Again, he found himself grateful for his small figure as it allowed him to stay hidden from view and he prayed Riddle hadn't already noticed him. For once, it seemed, his prayers had been answered for the other boy simply walked straight up to the counter, showing no signs of having seen nor heard him. One pale hand reached out and pressed down on the small bell that was positioned on the old wooden counter, the shrill noise echoing round the store and disturbing the ominous silence that had settled over the room.

After only a minute, the beaded hangings that were dangling behind the stand in the archway were pushed aside, revealing a tall wiry man who's skin was pale and ghostlike, stretching over his bones in such a way causing it to look as if it would rip at any second. His eyes were sunken and the pale lips were pressed together in a thin line. When he saw Tom however, the lips parted in a eerie smile, uncovering blackened and yellow teeth with several gaps. All in all, he would look like he belonged in the morgue if not for the luminous blue eyes that sparkled and shone with wisdom and life.

Riddle leaned closer, saying something to the other man who nodded his head in reply. Then, to Harry's slight alarm, he came out from behind the stall and started walking towards him. What caught Harry's attention however was the fact that he was _silent._ Not a sound was heard from his footsteps or even the natural sound that was breathing. He could have been a ghost if not for his solid form.

The...Man? Didn't come to where Harry was hiding however, instead stopping at the leaning bookcase looking as though it would fall apart at a single touch, and grabbed a book from the shelf. From his position of peering through the misty glass, Harry couldn't yet see the book that had been picked up, and he watched curiously as it was handed to an emotionless Riddle who gripped it almost eagerly in his hands.

Nodding once to the mysterious man, the upcoming Dark Lord simply turned and strode out of the store with the book clutched under his arm. As his back was turned to Harry he was given the full view of the cover of the book and he almost screamed in frustration at the cruelty of the world.

For, peeking out from under Riddle's arm, was the title: _'Blood Bonds'_ as it gazed mockingly at him. Harry's eyes followed after the book as though it had deeply offended him before the door closed between them and it was _gone_. It had been so _close_ as well but of course, it had slipped out of his fingers at the last second because of Tom bloody Riddle.

He signed, resigning himself to the fact that he had lost and moved out from his position, the store was once again, empty. The strange man having disappeared to Merlin knows where.

As Harry dishearteningly made his was through Knockturn Alley he was suddenly stopped when a tall, thin figure stepped out in front of him, causing him to pause and glance up at the man before him. A repugnant face stared down at him, it's mouth twisting into an ugly and uninviting smile at the sight of the small boy. Then, a clammy hand clamped down roughly on Harry's shoulder, starting to steer him in a desired direction.

Not in the mood for any games Harry sneered up at the man, eyes blaring with disdain and distaste, "Get your filthy hands off me."

The man it seemed, either didn't hear the danger in Harry's tone or chose to ignore it as he simply laughed, trailing one stubby finger down Harry's smooth cheek, the ragged nail scraping against the skin and drawing a thin trail of blood. "You're a pretty lil' thing aren't yer'." He almost cooed, his voice coming out raspy and grating as though he hadn't used it in months.

Green eyes stared blankly at him and, if the man had had even a bit of sense, this would have been a clear warning and he would have left then and there. It seemed he was, however, lacking any brain cells or the slightest bit of intelligence for he continued to steer Harry into a smaller alley between two shops, their walls and the Alley's natural darkness shrouding the place in shadows.

Harry's wasn't particularly sure what the man was planning to do but he had a rather good idea of what and his lip cured in disgust. It was filth like this, that deserved to die, and he'd be more than happy to give the man what he deserved.

At this, Harry's mouth twisted into a malicious smirk, his eyes glinting excitedly. This caused the grown man to pause, staring at him in confusion for a moment before grinning frightfully at him. "That's right," He said, eyes flashing eagerly, "you'll enjoy this as much as I will."

Before he could so much as move another step however, Harry had transfigured his car back into his wand, the familiar and welcome wood shooting sparks of energy up his arm and he sighed in contentment. Then, in one quick flick so fast the man's slow mind couldn't even follow the movement, a spell was shooting towards where he stood rooted in surprise.

Then he was on the floor, screaming in unimaginable pain as agony shot through every fibre of his body, making him feel like he was being ripped apart limb from limb and then being put back together again. He had never been under the cruciatus curse before but had he been, he would have known this felt 10 times worse.

Harry watched emotionless with only slight satisfaction as the curse took it's effect. Transfixed at the sight of it at work. Never did he lift the spell, instead keeping it on even as the man's tongue was gnawed off from biting down on it too hard through the pain, not even as he clawed at his own eyeballs and they too, were gorged out, joining the wet lump of muscle on the floor and the pupils staring unseeingly at the sky. Even as the man wildly mangled his own face, the sharp and rugged nails piercing through his skin and leaving him little more than an unrecognisable mess.

Once any remaining life had been drained from the man's contorted body, Harry left, leaving the lacerated corpse where it was and where some unlucky soul would more than likely stumble upon later if the smell had any say in it.

Still rather sour at having the information snatched away from him, Harry was tempted to arrive back at the orphanage early if just to spite Riddle and get him in trouble. He knew however, it would only cause more problems than it would solve and that Riddle would never again get him out of the orphanage. That was not worth the temporary satisfaction he would feel at Riddle's punishment.

He pondered what to do for the remaining time before he had to be back as he still had a while to go and eventually decided to merely wander round Knockturn Alley in the hopes he would find any more information.

However, after ages of aimlessly walking, Harry resigned himself that he would find no more books on the topic he was searching for here. Casting a quick_ tempus_ he gathered it was 5:45 and apparated near the spot he was supposed to meeting Riddle who arrived moments later and strode off towards the orphanage without even a glance in his direction. Rolling his eyes at the aspiring Dark Lord, Harry followed after the taller boy at a run.

The sun was still shining brightly in it's position in the sky as they made their way back to the awful building, both simply staring up at the grey and miserable structure for a moment. Letting out a sigh, Harry walked as slowly as he could to the imposing doors which opened after only a minute of waiting outside.

Once they had been ushered inside, Riddle turned to him, looking at him for the first time since they got back and smirked. "Remember your side of the bargain Black, come to the kitchens at nine tonight."

It was a demand Harry knew but he only nodded, tired from his day of wandering about with little success.

Sitting in his room Harry pondered what to do now. He wondered why Riddle would have wanted a book on blood bonds in the first place but put it to the back of his mind to think on later. Then he reached into his pocket and picked out one of the books he'd gained, enlarging it and staring at the title: _'Magical Oaths'._

That could contain what he wanted to know or at least, something on it, Harry didn't get his hopes up. Sitting crossed legged and leaning back against the headboard, he started to read.

* * *

Almost three hours passed and Harry had successfully read through two of the books. Turning the last page of the third one, he threw it against the wall in annoyance. There had been absolutely _nothing_ in any of them on blood magic or bonds let alone how to get around them! So they might state that bonds could be made using blood but that was it! He_ really_ should have gone to Knockturn first, then he might have been able to grab that book before Riddle did and, quite frankly, he should have_ known_ there would be nothing detailed about it in the oh so nice and cheerful Diagon Alley!

Knowing he had to get downstairs to do Riddle's punishment, he picked himself up from his comfortable position and dropped down the small distance from his bed to the hard floor. Then an idea struck him. Riddle might have bought the book but surely he would keep it in his room here at the orphanage? If that was the case, he would only have to wait until Riddle was busy and sneak into his room to search for the tome.

Determined now, that that was what he would do, he made his way down towards the kitchen with slightly lifted spirits. Upon entering, the first thing he noticed was the pile of dirty clothes placed next to a dolly tub along with small packets of soap. The next thing was Riddle who was casually seated in one of the chairs, a volume in his hand with no visible title. Upon his arrival, the dark haired teenager lowered the text from his vision and pierced Harry with his scrutinising eyes.

"You're late." Was all he said before going back to the book in his hand.

Resisting the urge to scowl, Harry walked over to the washing equipment and simply stared at it for a moment. He realised he had absolutely no idea how to wash anything in this time, he'd never bothered to learn about something as trivial as _washing_ in the 1940's back- or forward- in his time-line.

After gazing blankly at the equipment for a little while longer he decided to wing it. It's not like he would be the one to get in trouble should he mess it up. For what felt like hours but could have only been, in actual fact, one, Harry's arms were tired and aching, his nails pealing off at the tip and with sore, numb fingers from all the scrubbing and squeezing before finally, he was finished. He wouldn't deny that he felt some small amount of relief to being done.

Turning he found Riddle staring at him with penetrating eyes and Harry wondered just how long he had been observing him. Silence stretched as neither seemed inclined to say anything but eventually, Harry broke it. As of now, he just wanted to get back to his room a sleep. "Finished."

After a long moment of which Riddle continued to gaze at him unperturbedly, he finally opened his mouth although, he may as well not have, "I can see that."

Harry sighed, "I'm leaving then."

No answer. The aspiring Dark Lord only cocked his head to the side as if studying an interesting specimen and followed Harry's movement with his perceptive gaze as the small boy walked past him and out the door.

Even after he had disappeared, Riddle continued to stare at the door. There was something... Aggravating him. He found himself clawing at the edges of a memory that was in his grasp but continued to stay just out of reach. It had been bothering him all day but whenever he saw Silas It seemed to draw closer, becoming almost clear before slipping away. It annoyed him. He couldn't think of why he was like this and he wanted to figure it out. So far, all he knew was, it had something to do with Silas Black...

* * *

Although he wanted to read the other books he'd stolen, as soon as his head touched the pillow Harry was asleep, exhausted from his day even if he did sleep in. Further down the hall, Riddle sat on his own bed, fingers stroking the worn cover of the new book he'd bought. It wasn't because of it's title, of course not, he had no interest in blood bonds himself. The tome however, was written in parseltongue by Salazar Slytherin himself and_ that_ attracted Tom's attention. After all, it was one of a kind, and to make things better only _he_ could read it making it was rightfully _his_. In the end, all knowledge was power even if he had no use for the topic of the volume at the current time, who was to say he wouldn't in the future?

He could practically taste the dark magic that engulfed the book and was eager to start. To his annoyance however, the volume in his hand would not open. No matter how much and hard he tried to pry it, it stayed firmly shut, taunting him.

_Why wasn't it opening?_ He stared at the cover for a moment, debating on the ways of which he could get it to open. "_Open." _He tried hissing in parseltongue. The book stayed stubbornly still. Unfortunately, his mind stayed blank for once as he was unable to use any magic out of Hogwarts, which was a ludicrous rule in itself so he resigned himself to wait until he got back to the school. Just thinking about Hogwarts made him sigh, he wanted to get out of this loathsome, filthy orphanage as soon as possible but the summers always did seem to drag.

Then his thoughts drifted to his meeting earlier today and a small smile took over his lips. There was something oddly fulfilling about having the most influential and stuck up purebloods at your feet. Desperate to please and terrified of making a wrong move.

* * *

The next morning Harry woke to the sound of breakfast knocking on his door... not literally of course. Dragging himself out of bed and getting changed into the itchy uniform he then trudged slowly downstairs.

He noticed Riddle wasn't at his usual spot at his table in the far corner, nor was he anywhere else in the room. Completely unconcerned with the other boy's absence, Harry ate his meal alone or at least, he started to before a shadow loomed over him.

It was a boy, around his age who looked around nervously as though expecting Riddle to jump out at any moment. He coughed, eyes flickering with slight alarm. "Mr. Jerome would like to see you in his office." With that said, the brown haired boy immediately scuffled off, obviously eager to get away from him.

Harry sighed, Mr. Jerome was a new helper at the orphanage or at least, that was what he'd gathered. The middle-age man arrived only weeks before he had. What he would want with Harry, he had no idea. As far as Harry had seen, the man was a religious freak, the type Harry hated.

Discarding his untouched breakfast, Harry wandered out the kitchen and down a corridor to a wooden door with a metal plaque on it with the words: 'Mr. Jerome' engraved in silver.

Knocking on the door in a timid manor, he didn't have to wait long before a voice called out from the inside telling him to enter. Arranging his features into a curious yet wary expression, Harry opened the door to find Mr Jerome standing with his arms in front of him by the crackling fire as it spit vicious sparks into the air, clutching what looked to be the Bible in his calloused hands.

"You asked to see me... sir?"

The man turned round, fixing his dim brown eyes on the small boy, "Yes. I wanted to talk to you about something... Someone actually."

Okay, Harry was definitely more wary now and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Now I don't want you to be frightened of telling the truth." Jerome consoled seriously and Harry grew slightly confused. _What was he on about?_

"I assure you, you are safe now."

Harry merely blinked, somewhat dumbfounded.

The strange man seemed to take a deep breath, "What can you tell me about Tom Riddle?"

Silence. That was all that greeted the religious man's strange question. Harry was... confused as loath as he was to admit it. Why on earth was he asking _him_ about Tom Riddle let alone about Riddle himself. Seeing the man still staring expectantly at him Harry cleared his throat. "He's well... quiet?"

To his annoyance, his answer came out as more of a question and though Jerome seemed slightly disappointed, he also looked as though he had expected such an answer. "Now now my dear boy. There's no need to fear. I will not let him harm you." Though his words were obviously meant to be consoling, Harry only felt more confusion and the urge to laugh.

Somehow, if Riddle really wanted to hurt him, Harry doubted some crazy old religious man would be able to stop him.

"He won't harm me." _I won't let him._ He thought, keeping his face clueless and innocent.

The man sighed, "Silas, though I hate to be the one to tell you as you seem rather close with Mr. Riddle," Harry almost snorted, "I must warn you that he is not what he seems. There's something much darker, much more evil lurking beneath the surface."

Yes, Harry really wanted to burst into laughter but he had a feeling it wouldn't go down well with the other man and kept his features straight.

"Now, can you do something for me Silas?"

Harry only stared.

"I want you to keep an eye on him, tell me anything of use. I do not want you getting fooled by the devil's trickery after all." He warned and as Harry left, he wondered if the man meant it in a figurative way or if he really believed Riddle was somehow Satan himself.

He wouldn't be surprised If he did.

Just before Harry was about to enter his room he found himself pausing, hand inches away from the door handle. Slowly, almost unwillingly, he turned his head, eyes settling on the closed door at the end of the hall that practically screamed _'Keep out or else...'_

He really shouldn't, after all, he had no clue how long Riddle would be gone for or what time he would be getting back but he was so tempted. What were the chances the book was still in his room? Somehow, Harry doubted the book would be well hidden if it was hidden at all as he found it likely that Riddle wouldn't even think of the option that someone might dare enter his room.

Biting his lip, Harry considered, who knows? Perhaps he would even be able to read it and then put it back before the future Dark Lord arrived back at the orphanage and leave him none the wiser. Coming to a decision, Harry started stalking towards Riddles door. The atmosphere seemingly getting colder and colder with every step he took if that were possible.

Tying the door handle he found to no surprise, that it was locked. Not that that would stop him. Focusing his magic he pushed it towards his hand, feeling as it travelled from his core and down his arm, the magic surging through leaving a trail of sparks before finally reaching his palm and shooting out at the lock. There was a barely audible click and the door was unlocked, as easily as that.

Pushing the door gradually open Harry then took the step that brought him into Tom Riddle's room. Time to start searching.

* * *

_**A/N: **__Yay finally finished and uploaded! Hope you enjoyed the chapter x please favourite/follow/review so I can be comfortable with the knowledge people ____are __enjoying my spur of the moment fanfic ;) Not sure when the next chapter will be uploaded, hopefully not too long but I do have RL and a ton of work to do unfortunately :( Until next time! Xox_

_~Diamondtearsx_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Living To Die **_

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and everything in them belongs to the wonderful J.K Rowling!

**Notes:**_Warning, this fan-fic will likely contain gore, torture, murder, sexual themes, gay themes and swearing. If you are not a fan of any of these I suggest finding another story... More might be added as the story progresses. Enjoy!_

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait! And thank you to all those that fav/followed/reviewed! I wish I could reply to every one of your comments but I think you might all get a bit bored! Xox If anyone is wondering whether this will be a slash between Harry and Tom I am not yet sure... For obvious reasons, at the moment I just can't see it happening but I might make it so in the future. If it does turn into a slash however it obviously won't be the main aspect of this fan fiction as this is mainly focusing on the sort of friendship between the two characters and a slash won't happen until much time in the future as Harry is well six. Whether or not something will happen to make him age by around ten years I am unsure xx

_Thank you and yes, Harry is six and I am also wondering where I will be taking the story! I suppose that's what happens when you don't really write a plot..._

_Moonstone blaze_

_Yes Harry being six does affect his magic. By my logic, he has a younger and less developed body and therefore he can't sustain a developed magical core so it remains at say the 'max' it **can **hold... This is why for the more complex spells such as the 'obliviate' and the fact he didn't use a wand it caused that affect on him because his body is trying to cope with the overuse of magic if that makes any sense!_

_'..Speech..'_ = Parseltongue

* * *

**Chapter 6: **

Once inside, Harry swiftly closed the door behind him. No need for anyone to see the open door and come to investigate. Riddle's room was... Spotless. It seemed tidier than Harry's own room and he owned next to nothing... in fact, the only thing he owned was his wand and his uniform.

Not wanting to be in there for any longer than he had to, Harry began his search, hoping to find the book as soon as possible and leave before Riddle got back. Harry soon spotted a book lying innocently on the stand next to Riddle's bed and could hardly believe his luck. The title:_ 'Blood Bonds,'_ was staring up at him, just inviting him to take it. Grasping the book in his hands he grinned triumphantly. The moment was soon ruined however for just then, the door shot open and a furious Riddle was staring directly at him.

"_What_ are you doing in _my room!?_"

Despite himself, Harry found himself shrinking backwards as though he could just melt into the wall. Riddle sounded absolutely beside himself with rage and shock and Harry had a feeling he wouldn't be able to get out of this.

Nonetheless, he stood up taller, widening his eyes innocently, "I-I just wanted to borrow a book. I've s-seen you take some from the library and I just- well I just wanted to borrow them." He cast his eyes down, "I-I would have asked! Seriously! But you weren't here and I- well I just couldn't wait."

Riddle strode forward, eyes focused on the book currently clutched in Harry's arms. "Oh really?" He sneered, "And pray tell me what you would want with that book?"

"I err- Well I- Thought it looked...Interesting?" _Great job Harry._ He thought to himself sarcastically.

It was only then that Harry realised the door was closed and he was trapped in a room with Riddle. Alone.

"You wouldn't be able to read it if you wanted to." Riddle scoffed, eyes glinting murderously and Harry knew he was walking on the edge.

Nonetheless he glared, "I'm not stupid you know, I can read!"

"Could've fooled me." Riddle growled, hand reaching out to grab the book back.

Harry snatched it away from his reach however, he wasn't giving it up now.

Riddle paused, before narrowing his eyes dangerously, "Give. It. Back." He said lowly and Harry gulped. What were the chances he would be making it out of this alive?

Knowing he was likely making a mistake but unwilling to give the book up, Harry clutched it closer to his chest. "No."

Riddle's hand twitched, eyes promising murder before seeming to calm down. "You can have the book." He said and his mouth twisted up into a cruel smirk, "If you can read the title."

Harry only stared incredulously at him. Did he _really_ think Harry was that incompetent at reading? Glancing back down at the book to make sure he wasn't missing anything, Harry looked back up, "Err... Blood Bonds."

He didn't know what he had been expecting really... But for Riddle to completely freeze up, face for once showing unconcealed shock was not it. He didn't understand what was so shocking about it. Utterly confused, Harry made to walk past Riddle, planning to take advantage of his frozen state only to be roughly grabbed on the wrist.

_'Stay.'_ Riddle hissed and Harry froze, turning around to face the other boy who was now staring at him in wonder. _'You can understand me?'_

Harry frowned, brow crinkling in confusion. Why wouldn't..?_ Oh!_ Suddenly, Harry paled, realising Riddle had in fact just spoken in parseltongue. But why would he? Unless... Harry glanced back down at the book but this time, paid more attention to the words. As he watched they seemed to twist, the letters moulding into what resembled strange shaped lines and Harry knew that what he had assumed was correct. Taking a deep breath, Harry forced a confused look on his face and jerked his head back up to meet Riddle.

"Of course I can." He said, pretending to be incredulous.

This time however, It seemed Riddle wasn't to be fooled by Harry's acting. He made to speak before he suddenly paused, clutching his head with his hands as though in pain. Harry was curious at to what was happening, however he _wasn't_ curious enough to not try and take advantage of the situation and made a dash to escape.

The opportunity didn't last long though and before he had taken more than two steps Riddle's head snapped up, eyes locking immediately onto Harry's green ones. There was no mistaking the furious fire he saw in the midnight orbs.

In one swift move, Riddle had strode forward and grabbed Harry by the front of his uniform, eyes blaring, "How did you do that?" He demanded and Harry struggled to speak.

"Do what?"

"Obliviate me!"

_Well crap_. Harry froze, for once unable to come up with anything to say.

Riddle suddenly let go of Harry's shirt, causing him to drop to the floor and he hurriedly stood up, shooting daggers at Riddle.

"How!" He hissed, and in one rapid movement he had whipped out his wand, pointing it towards Harry. Somehow, Harry doubted he cared about the rules at this particular moment.

Then he cocked his head to the side, smiling dangerously at Harry, "Do you know what this is Silas?" He asked lightly, observing the smaller boy with keen eyes and slowly Harry nodded, unsure of how to play this.

"Then you know what I can do to you if you don't answer my question."

"I know you'll get into trouble." Okay. So it might not have been the smartest of things to say but Harry didn't seem to be at his brightest at all that day.

Riddle merely laughed, "I'll get a _warning_." He sneered "Besides, I can just claim it was an accident. That your magic was acting up and I had to... Detain you." He smirked and Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Now Silas, tell me how you managed to obliviate me? And quickly, I do so hate to be kept waiting."

Seeing no way out of it short of murdering the aspiring Dark Lord and Merin knows just how badly that would fuck up the time line, Harry decided to talk... Though not exactly truthfully.

"I-I panicked okay? I used to read magic books at my... carers' house. I saw one that could erase someone's memory and I guess it stuck with me." Harry forcefully gulped, "I was terrified of being found out. My guardian always told me to never let anyone know what I was."

Riddle had not lowered his arm but his stance seemed to become less tense and he studied Harry curiously. "That doesn't explain how you can understand parseltongue."

_Because I have a piece of your_ _bloody soul attached to me that's why._ "I'm as in the dark as you are." Harry lied.

Riddle 'hmmed' thoughtfully, both wizards simply staring at each other for a moment before Riddle finally lowered his wand and placing it back in his sleeve. Obviously he didn't think a six year old was much of a threat.

_Mistake_. Harry realised. One of Voldemort's greatest weaknesses being that he underestimated those around him and that was what, he supposed, had lead to his downfall.

"Now what to do with you.." Harry heard Riddle mutter and he scowled. Really he should have known better than to sneak into Riddle's room without actually knowing anything about where Riddle was or what time he would be arriving back. He supposed it was the trace of Gryffindor that was left in him.

"How about I take you up on your offer." Harry suggested, the words falling from his mouth before he could stop them. He clamped his mouth shut but it was too late, Riddle was already looking at him with a gleam in his eyes.

"Very well." He said and Harry could see the glint of satisfaction in his eyes, "Of course," He said with a smirk, "As you are to be my student, you will call me master." He said simply, leaving no room for argument. Despite that Harry scowled, he hated bowing to someone, to let them act as though they were his superior.

"And if I refuse to call you master?"

Tom only raised an eyebrow, "Then the consequences will be most unpleasant."

Harry wanted to say that he could take whatever Riddle threw at him, whether it be torture or the killing curse but knew that as a six year old, that wouldn't be expected and he didn't plan to raise any suspicions on himself. At least, no more than he already had.

Reluctantly, Harry gave a short nod of his head, though his eyes never ceased in their glaring. This just made the Dark-Lord-To-Be smirk even wider. "Well Silas, you can start by reading these," He then proceeded to gather a collection of books from his trunk and shove them at Harry who quickly caught the volumes in his arms. "And since you were so eager to steal that book, you can figure out how to open it. _After_ you've read those." Riddle paused, "And if you _do_ somehow manage to open it," He scoffed as though he was certain he wouldn't, "You bring it straight to me otherwise, I don't want to see you again until you have fished those books. Do you understand?"

Another stiff nod of his head and Harry turned to leave but was stopped once again by Riddle who was gazing at him mockingly, "I didn't hear that Silas."

"Yes."

"Yes_ what_?"

Harry grit his teeth, "Yes_ master."_ He all but growled and Riddle smirked, amusement and satisfaction shining in his eyes.

"Good you may leave." He dismissed and Harry badly wanted to curse him then and there. He stopped himself however, and left as quickly as he could with a pile of books in his arms without dropping them.

Once in his room he dumped them all on his bed and heaved out a sigh. For once in his life, Harry had no clue what the future held. He just wasn't sure whether or not that was a good thing.

* * *

___Harry lay there, still as stone, eyes fixed on the blank ceiling as he considered what he was about to do. He was about to take that step, give in to the temptation that had been clawing at him for years now._

___Sitting up from his position on the plush couch the room of requirement had supplied for him, Harry watched as several training dummies suddenly appeared out of thin air. Glancing sideways for a final reminder of the spell in the tome he'd found, Harry stood, flexing his wrist and causing his beloved wand to shoot into his hand, moulding into his palm as though it had always been a part of him. _

___Aiming it at one of the dummies, he whispered the spell, feeling the totally different type of magic rush through him, intoxicating him. The blue light swirled out but he barely noticed, instead letting out a gasp as the magic engulfed him, drowning him in it's sparks of energy. It felt so ____**different, **____so entirely new and dangerous and enticing and it left him not knowing which way was up. He could loose himself in the pure bliss of the exhilarating rush of darkness that spread through his veins leaving them full of dancing flames. It was a drug. _

___And Harry was addicted. _

* * *

Green eyes slowly opened. He simply lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling to his room much like he had done in his dream. It was strange he thought, to suddenly start having dreams of important moments in his lives. The moments that had changed and shaped him into the monster he was today. Because Harry knew he was a monster. There was no other option really. He _enjoyed_ torturing and killing people, no matter who they were. The world had left him empty, sucked him dry leaving him nothing more than a hollow shell. It was because this he did what he did, just to feel alive. A small part, the old part, felt guilty that it came at other's expense but the new him just couldn't bring himself to care. Why should he?

What had they done for him? The muggles had ruined him, taking everything he knew and held dear and destroyed it. The wizarding world wasn't much better. They treated him as a tool, a toy to be used and moulded and placed all their expectations on him. Had anyone truly cared about him? The real him? He wasn't so sure any more.

And he was long past caring. He owed _nothing_ to _anybody_. Not to the wizarding world and certainly not to the muggles. He supposed he felt trapped, alone. Because no matter what he did, no matter who he met or how he acted he would always start back at the beginning again. Everything lost and wasted. So why bother? Why bother caring? And even if he tried, he doubted he could. He was too dead inside. It was too late.

Sighing, he sat up in bed and picked the books off the stand only to find, although he wasn't really surprised, that he had already read them and he eagerly took up the one book he wanted to read. To his dismay however, the book wouldn't open and he brutally tried to pry the thing open with no luck. Glaring at the cover he tried speaking at it in parseltongue. Nothing.

_Stupid magical books_! Muggle books didn't have these problems. Why wouldn't it open? What did it _want!_? He froze. A book on_ blood_ bonds? Wrote by Salazar Slytherin himself according to the front. Harry knew just what would get the book to open. _Blood._

Question was however, would it open with _his_ blood, or would it have to be the blood of Slytherin?

Hoping It wouldn't seriously backfire, Harry used his wand to created a slash in his hand and let the blood drip onto the cover...

Nothing.

Harry sighed. At least nothing gruesome had happened to him. Yet.

He decided to test his theory that it needed Slytherin's blood or in this case, the heir of Slytherin.

Dragging himself out of bed he quietly opening the door, well aware it was too early for anyone to be wandering about and as silently as he could, he made his way to Riddle's room. Knocking three times on the door as hard as he could without it being too loud, he waited.

After several seconds, the door opened a crack. Upon seeing who it was the door then opened wider to reveal a slightly dishevelled Tom Riddle staring at him with annoyance.

"Can I come in?" Pause. Then Riddle sighed and stepped aside, allowing Harry access and closing the door behind him.

"Yes?" Riddle questioned irritated, "I thought I told you I didn't want to see you until you had finished those books."

"Hmm? Oh I finished them already." Harry said, dismissing it and ignoring Riddle's surprised look.

"But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." He paused, "I think I know how to get the book to open."

That got Riddles attention and his eyes snapped to Harry's, seemingly more awake now. "Do go on."

"It's just a guess... an idea really-"

"So you're not sure." Tom scoffed, folding his arms and staring at him in displeasure. Much to Harry's annoyance, he found himself hating that look, feeling a pang in his chest and desperate to never see it directed at him again. He _had_ to get the bond sorted out.

"Well no but it's worth a try."

Riddle sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair obviously still not fully awake, "What's this idea?"

"That it needs the blood of a descendent of Slytherin."

Riddle froze, eyeing the book thoughtfully. "I admit... That's not a bad idea."

Harry just smirked, "Problem is of course, are there any heirs left?"

Luckily, Tom didn't seem to be at all at his best at this moment in time, probably from being woken at 2 in the morning and therefore he didn't notice the fact that Harry clearly knew there was.

"I am the heir." He said softly, "Give it to me."

Harry did so, eager to see if it would work. After rummaging around in his trunk, Riddle finally pulled out a wicked looking knife with a black gem in it's silver hilt. A gift from a follower. He then easily sliced it across his own palm without flinching and allowed the crimson blood to soak into the cover of the book. The blood seemed to sink into the material, the ruby liquid twisting into thin lines on the cover that seemed to glow in the darkness. The lines kept morphing until they formed a simple word: _Open._ Wrote in the blood of the heir of Slytherin.

Harry saw the triumphant smirk light up on Riddles face as he gazed at the volume with glee. Then he turned to Harry although his eyes stayed trained on the tome, "Leave me now. We will discuss your training later."

Without a word, Harry left, slightly disappointed though not at all surprised that he wouldn't be able to read the book. At least not just yet. He had every intention of studying the ancient tome no matter what Riddle might say.

For now at least, he was happy to simply fall back asleep.

* * *

___Forth year... forth life. Things had played out much the same as the other lives so far with only one major difference. He was now deeply involved with the dark arts. Each life he tried to do differently, ____as ____perhaps, to stay dead, he simply had to do a life ____**right. **____What life wanted out of him however he was ____not____ sure. Running through the maze Harry made it to the centre, staring at the cup that would transport him to the place where Voldemort would be reborn. He knew he could just sit back and let another champion take it but he also knew he wouldn't. They would likely not make it out alive. ____And e____ven ____**if **____he died he would ____most likely just wake up again._

___Taking a deep breath he reached out a hand and grabbed the handle, immediately feeling the familiar feeling of a portkey transportation. He easily landed on his feet, used to taking portkeys by now and was immediately bound and tied to the headstone by Wormtail the traitor, Harry felt his blood boiling just looking at him. _

___This time, Harry showed no emotion on his face. He wasn't scared. What was there to be scared of? Death? No, he'd died several already. Pain? Nothing he wouldn't have been through before. _

___This time, when he was forced to duel Voldemort, instead of firing a spell at the Dark Lord, he shot it at the traitor. The spell he had been practising in room of requirement and had been dying to try out on a real person. The rat let out a scream of agony and Voldemort paused in his duelling. _

___Taking advantage of this, Harry sprinted towards the cup. Just before he touched it however he turned back to the snivelling rat who's screams had died out now that the curse was over. ____All the hate at the man that had been the one to ruin his life bubbled to the surface. Yes. He blamed Wormtail. Not Voldemort any more. He couldn't, ____h____e would never have expected anything different from the Dark Lord but his parents had ____**trusted **____the rat. Enough to make him their secret keeper which had turned out to be a fatal mistake. All his anger, hatred, loss and pain poured into him in that one moment and he made a decision. ____He simply gazed for a moment before raising his wand. _

_"__For my parents." He whispered. "Avada Kedavra." ____Wormtails' eyes lit with fear for a split seconds before they were blank, devoid of life. Ignoring the shocked silence from those around him, Harry grabbed the cup, transporting him back to Hogwarts. _

___He'd finally gotten his revenge. _

* * *

Morning dawned and found both Harry and Riddle seated at what was now 'their' table. In contrast to each other, Harry was wide awake, eyes flitting about fervently whilst Riddle in turn looked tired with small bags under his eyes, likely from staying up all night reading.

"Anything interesting?" Harry asked casually, knowing Riddle would understand what he meant.

Dark blue eyes flitted to Harry, "Nothing of importance." He replied smoothly.

Harry rolled his eyes. Now just how to get the book...

"I trust you weren't lying when you said you had finished all the books I gave you?"

"Of course I wasn't."

Riddle peered at him suspiciously. He then proceeded to question Harry on the magical theory the books had contained to which he answered correctly. By the time they had finished, the rest of the tables were empty and Riddle was feeling reluctantly impressed with Silas's knowledge and ability to remember everything in under a day.

Staring at the tall boy, Harry bit his lip. What were the chances Riddle would let him read _'Blood Bonds'?_ He decided to ask anyway. "C-Can I have a read of that book?"

Riddle's eyes snapped to his and narrowed slightly, "Why so eager Silas?" He smirked before mocking, "Though maybe if you asked properly..."

Scowling, an expression he seemed to be doing an awful lot as of late, Harry put on his sweetest voice, "_Please_ can I read that book _master_?"

Riddle hummed thoughtfully, "Maybe another day. If you're a good boy." He taunted.

"I'm not a dog." Harry protested but he might as well have not said anything for all the attention Riddle paid him.

Sighing, Harry stood up, leaving the dining room with Riddle unfortunately on his heals. Just before he got to the safety of his room he was grasped on the wrist by a firm grip.

"I expect you to be ready in an hour to go out."

Harry blinked, frowning slightly, "Go out where?"

Riddle tsked, "Surprise." He simply replied before turning and disappearing into his room leaving Harry staring after him in annoyance.

He supposed he'd just have to be ready for anything. He wouldn't put it past Riddle to take him some place dangerous. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he thought that it was _extremely_ likely that wherever they were going wasn't going to be the most pleasant of places. Somehow, he couldn't see mini Voldemort taking him out to ice creams and a drink...

* * *

_**A/N: **_Hope you enjoyed the chapter... Not the best I know but I am struggling to come up with anything to happen. Appalling I know! If anyone has any suggestions don't hesitate to let me know! :) Sorry for the extremely boring chapter but at least there was a lot of interaction between Harry and Tom... Also, I am placing the dreams in there to better understand Harry's character and how he came to be as he is now xx

Also, I am seriously considering rewriting the first chapter as I am not pleased with how it turned out... Not sure if I will or not yet but I read it through and it seemed well, crap. Not sure when next update will be xox


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